Chapter 3: A New Gogol Has Been Born!

"At nine years old, the boy Vanka Zhukov was sent three months ago to the cobbler Alyakhin's shop to serve as an apprentice. On the eve of Christmas, he did not go to bed. He waited until the master and mistress and the other apprentices went out to attend morning prayers, then took a small bottle of ink and a pen with a rusted nib from the master's cupboard, smoothed out a crumpled sheet of white paper before him, and began to write."

Did he directly name the characters and the location?

Furthermore, although serfdom still exists, according to Dmitri's understanding of the current social situation, in some regions the serfs seem to have gained limited freedom, and sometimes nobles do not simply watch a serf's child eat for free without doing anything; if there is enough work on their own estates, sending them to others to serve as laborers is also a common occurrence.

These thoughts flashed through Dmitri's mind, and soon he continued reading.

"Before writing the first word, he turned his head several times, trembling, to look at the door and the window, glanced sideways at the black icon and the shelves on either side filled with shoe lasts, and sighed intermittently. The paper was laid out on a bench, and he himself knelt before the bench."

"Dear Grandfather, Konstantin Makarich!"he wrote. "I am writing to you. I wish you a happy Christmas and pray that God will grant you everything you desire. I have no father and no mother; only you remain as my kin."

Poor child, even writing a letter makes him so trembling; he must have suffered greatly...

And the subsequent narration undoubtedly confirmed Dmitri's guess:

"Yesterday I was beaten. The master grabbed me by the hair, dragged me into the yard, and lashed me severely with the leather strap the apprentices use for work, blaming me for rocking the little baby in their cradle and falling asleep by accident."

"Last week the mistress asked me to clean a herring; I started cleaning it from the tail, so she picked up the herring and thrust the head straight into my face."

"They make me sleep in the hallway; whenever their baby cries, I cannot sleep at all and have to keep rocking the cradle."

"Dear Grandfather, have mercy like God, take me away from here, go back home, back to the village, I can no longer endure it... I bow to you, I will pray to God for you forever, take me away from here, or I will die..."

All the misfortunes this child recounts seem very unusual, but anyone with any understanding of the current society would find them nothing more than common.

And this short story is not merely recording society; it uses deep emotion to let the orphan Vanka recount everything:

"Come, dear Grandfather,"Vanka continued writing, "I beg you, in the name of Christ and God, take me away from here. Take pity on me, this unfortunate orphan; everyone here beats me, I am starving to death, I am suffocating beyond words, and I am always crying."

"A few days ago the master hit me with a shoe last, beating me until I fainted to the ground; it was only with great difficulty that I came back to life. My life is bitter beyond measure, worse than a dog's... Greet Alyona, the one-eyed Yegorka, and the coachman for me; do not give my accordion to outsiders. From your grandson Ivan Zhukov. Dear Grandfather, come."

This poor orphan seems to have placed all his hopes on his grandfather, but is his grandfather truly a good man?

It was written earlier!

"During the day he sleeps in the servants'kitchen or jokes with the cooks, and at night he puts on a bulky sheepskin coat and walks around the estate, constantly striking the wooden clapper."

"Right now his grandfather must be standing at the main gate, squinting at the glowing red windows of the village church, stamping his feet clad in tall felt boots, and joking with the servants. His wooden clapper hangs at his belt. He is so cold that he claps his hands and hunches his neck from time to time; now he pinches the maid, now he twists the cook, emitting an old man's laugh."

Such an old scoundrel would not have sent his grandson to be an apprentice if he truly cared for him!

And even for a hope as faint as his, will there truly be an opportunity for him to see it?

"Vanka folded the written paper into four parts and placed it inside the envelope he had bought yesterday for one kopeck... He thought for a moment, dipped the pen in ink, and wrote the address: To the countryside, for Grandfather."

Then he scratched his head, thought again, and added a few words: Konstantin Makarich."

Can such a letter, which lacks even an address, reach his grandfather's hands?

Vanka did not know; he simply:

"Settled down with a beautiful hope, and after an hour fell asleep... In his dream he saw a stove. His grandfather sat on the stove top, his bare feet dangling, reading the letter to the cooks... The loach walked around the stove, wagging its tail..."

Regarding the short story "Vanka," Mikhail had considered whether it was suitable when he wrote it; after some investigation, he found that although "Vanka" was a short story that appeared decades later, it remained suitable for the present.

It only needed some slight adaptation.

In fact, compared to reality, this short story even seems too mild!

One wonders what Dmitri's reaction will be after finishing it...

While Mikhail, who was devouring his food, was thinking this, suddenly he felt as if a sound appeared near his ear, and this sound grew louder and louder, loud enough to attract the attention of everyone else in the tavern.

When Mikhail looked up, the giant bear-like man before him was already in tears, crying just like a child, and showing every sign of breaking down into a wailing sob.

Seeming to notice Mikhail's gaze, this giant bear-like man appeared somewhat embarrassed; he hurriedly took a few rubles from his chest and placed them before Mikhail, while speaking with a choked voice:

"I have already paid for the meal; these few rubles are a loan to you, my friend! Do not refuse me! I will come to find you later regarding the story! You are currently living in the attic of an apartment near Senaya Square, correct? I estimate I will come to find you again very soon!"

With that, Dmitri hurriedly left, leaving Mikhail, who still had meat stuffed in his mouth, stunned in his seat for a long while.

Finally, Mikhail swallowed the meat in his mouth and casually picked up the few rubles from the table.

This amount of money is enough for Mikhail to barely survive for a while longer, holding out until the manuscript fees arrive.

Great savior, Dmitri!

And judging by his reaction, this short story is definitely going to work?

After eating, Mikhail, dispelling the gloom of the previous few days, cheerfully returned to his home, ready to strike while the iron is hot and write a few more short stories.

Of course, when returning to his room, he still had to sneak around and avoid the landlady first.

Thus writing until nightfall, Mikhail enjoyed his infant-like sleep in his coffin-like room.

But while he was sleeping, a fierce knocking sound suddenly woke Mikhail from his dream.

Opening his eyes, he saw that everything around was pitch black, and outside, not a single glimmer of light could be seen in the sky.

This meant it was absolutely the early morning hours.

At this hour, who the hell is disturbing the peace?

Even the landlady would not choose this time to come over for the rent!

Furious, Mikhail, his heart aching, lit a candle, then angrily opened the door, only to see the giant bear-like Dmitri enter with a thin young man whose eyes shone excessively bright.

As soon as they entered, Dmitri and that young man grabbed Mikhail, one taking each arm, then lifted him up together, and at this early morning hour, shouted in unison:

"A new Gogol has been born!"

Mikhail: "???"

(End of this chapter)