The Gray Wolf and Tsarvich Ivan

Old Yelena's tent is simply the ugliest one in the whole carnival. It used to be pink, purple and green, and covered in fairy lights, but now it's mostly a dirty shade of gray, and the lights hang limp, lifeless and broken on their wires. Outside her tent, Old Yelena's pretty little grand-daughter Suki sells sweet, pink candy floss. Together with her story telling sessions and her candy floss sales, Mother says that Old Yelena makes enough money to feed herself and Suki… but obviously not enough to get a new tent.

I don't mind, anyway. My name is Alexi, and I am putting together a big book of Russian fairy tales. This is why I go and meet Old Mother Yelena every Sunday – there isn't a story in the whole world that she doesn't know. Plus she says that when the book is done, Suki will help me with the illustrations! Then I'm going to sell it to children all over the world and make a million, billion, trillion ruble, and when I have a million, billion, trillion ruble, Mother, Father, Jascha and I will go on a holiday, to some tropical country where the beaches are warm and white, and the ocean is as blue as the sky…

"Alexi! Stop day dreaming now!" Old Mother Yelena is ready to begin her story. "Today, I will tell you the tale of the Gray Wolf and Tsarvich Ivan." Candy floss in hand, I sit down to listen.

"Once upon a time, there was a hungry Gray Wolf. He was so hungry and so very thin, that you could count each of his ribs and his fur was falling out. One day, while he was out on a walk, he saw a delicious plump, white horse. In no time at all, the Wolf had jumped on the horse, and in three big gulps had eaten him whole. No longer hungry, he started walking again.

Then, lo and behold, he saw a young man, sitting on the side of the mud road and weeping. "Why are you sitting so sad and sorrowful, Tsarvich Ivan?" said the Gray Wolf."I have lost my horse and now I cannot finish the task my father set for me, Gray Wolf," the young man replied.

Now, Tsarvich Ivan was the son of a Tsar named Berendei. In his garden, Berendei the Tsar had a wondrous apple tree which bore beautiful golden apples. But day by day, the apples had begun to disappear and it soon became obvious that a thief roamed the garden in the dark depths of the night. In a rage, the Tsar sent his best men to catch the cunning crook, but each returned empty handed. Helpless now, the Tsar became very sad. In fact, he became so sad that he stopped eating and drinking altogether. As he watched his father grow sadder and thinner, his son decided something must be done.

"Do not grieve, dearest father," said Ivan, "I will myself go into the garden tonight and catch this most impertinent of thieves."
Accordingly, Tsarvich Ivan went into the garden that night. Determined to stay awake the whole night through, he did not so much as sit down, let alone lie down.

If he felt his eyelids start to droop, he would wash his face with night dew, and slap his cheeks. In this way, he stayed awake till the very hour before the sun rose. At that time, a light came into the garden and seemed to fly into the tree. And Tsarvich Ivan looked, and there among the branches of the apple tree, a Fire Bird sat pecking at a golden apple! As quietly as he could, Tsarvich Ivan crept up to the bottom of the tree, but before he could even begin to climb, the Fire Bird saw him and took flight.

In the morning, Tsarvich Ivan went to his father. "Well, my son, have you caught the thief?""No, father, but I know who he is." So saying, Ivan showed his father a single blazing feather that had fallen from the tail of the interloper. "The Fire Bird is your thief, father!"

Upon hearing this, Tsar Berendei was immediately relieved – after all, to know the thief is to be one step closer to catching him. To his son he said, "Tsarvich Ivan, I would have you saddle your trusty steed and set out to find the Fire Bird for me." Tsarvich Ivan immediately agreed.

Here, Old Yelena stopped her tale. When I looked disappointed, she patted me on the head with her frail old hand and said, "Next week, little Alexi, I will tell you about how Tsarvich Ivan came to meet the Gray Wolf, and how the two of them, travelling together, went further than you could ever believe possible."

With that I must be content. It is dark outside, and Mother will be waiting for me, and so I head home, to dinner and sleep. I must go to school tomorrow, but tonight I will dream of quiet gardens where golden apples grow.