Cigarettes and Squishmallows
Alyosha hurried to the carriage watching the skies above her. Deep, heavy clouds curled over the darkening heavens. Trofim waited at the reins, a patient smile on his face.
As Alyosha clambered inside and shut the door behind her, she sighed, relaxing finally. The rain just started, its patters hitting the carriage roof.
Trofim looked over his shoulder, back towards Alyosha
"Ready?"
"Yes," she called back, and the carriage jolted forward.
They arrived into town just as raindrops first broke over the streets, dampening everything in a slick wet sheen. Rushing up to the shop, Alyosha's small frame struggled to open the door. Just as she yanked it open, a draft from the pressure blew her skirt up to her knees. With a shriek, blushing hard, she hurried inside. No-one had noticed, but it embarrassed her nonetheless as she opened the heavy doors and rushed through to the warm safety of the shop.
The smoke shop was a small, dingy thing with a low roof, yet had a rather comforting feel to it. A stand of incense sticks was displayed in its center, giving a sickly sweet smell to it that made Alyosha dizzy. A miryad of cigars, pipes and other kits lined the walls. Looking around, there were quite a few customers for how late it was at night. She immediately recognized an old friend, Sasha, excitedly waving to her from behind the counter. His older co-worker, Sergei, remained busy with the line of people at the checkout desk, but smiled in her direction too. She waved back with a grin, and waiting in line, watched the people around her.
She spied another man she recognized from town, Andrusha, who was a humble bricklayer but met well with Alyosha's family when she was a child. His wife, Nina, was entertaining their little girl Liza, who danced about the shop, marveling at the many colors on display.
The incense was indeed strong, and Alyosha felt a headache coming on, but she wouldn't back down. It was Rakitin's birthday tomorrow, and she wanted to surprise her.
The line moved forward. The man in front of Alyosha was middle-aged, wearing a smart blue suit, raindrops still peppering dark spots on his shoulders.
"Vasily Alexandrovich," Sasha cried, beaming up at the man. Sasha was Alyosha's age, and they had been close in school. Now, with his own wife and daughter, family and work kept him plenty busy. "How's your day been?"
Vasily chuckled, but said nothing, sliding his order form across the counter. His face was kind, with deep lines etched into his skin, stress from working at the court-house aging him beyond his years. He was a respectable defense attorney from Moscow, and was working on a smaller case in Skotoprigonyevsk. All the townspeople who didn't mind their business loved him well, and he accepted this lack of privacy, for he honestly had nothing to hide. Such a man of few words was a rare but necessary blessing in these parts of Russia.
Next it was Alyosha's turn. She strode up to the desk and handed her receipt to Sasha.
"Ooh, who's this all for?" Sasha admired the lengthy slip of paper, reading its contents.
"Rakitin's having a birthday party tomorrow, so I wanted to surprise everyone," Alyosha replied. Sasha's eyebrows raised.
"Well then, only the best for such a fine lady! Sergei?" He handed the paper to his co-worker. "The finest we have, please."
As Sergei went to gather the order, Sasha laid his hands on the desk and leaned forward in earnest.
"How's that Misha doing these days, anyways?" His eyes sparkled with a boyish charm that one could imagine might never leave his countenance. Alyosha giggled, twirling her hair.
"Well, twenty-four's a quite respectable year, and she'll wear it well." Her mind went to the image of Rakitin's shining face in her mind, warming her heart.
Sergei was back with the order. He placed the incense in a paper wrapping, and then did the same with the cigarettes and new weed-pipe, a secret gift for Rakitin. Alyosha laid out the money she had, Sasha calculating the total.
"Alright, and because today's the twentieth of April, on this beautiful raining night, your total is down to one-hundred roubles even!"
Alyosha happily handed over the money, and taking the packages wrapped in yet another paper bag- "don't get too wet out there!" Sergei gently cautioned- she thanked the shopkeepers and left with a smile on her face.
Trofim still patiently waited outside with an umbrella. He was a newer face in town, but he and Alyosha had made close friends. This gesture was one of humble friendship, rather than an act of paid servitude; Trofim genuinely just liked to drive.
"Ready, ma'am?" His smile never wavered.
Alyosha nodded, and climbed back into the carriage. Settling down into the seat again, she noticed something else: a round, incredibly soft plush, with a caricature of a duck as its shape. Picking it up in her hands, she marveled at its deep plushy softness, and immediately squeezed it. It was a hug made mobile, she thought to herself.
"Trofim! What is this?" She cried out in joy to her friend, who just had returned to his spot at the head of the carriage.
"I don't know what it's called," Trofim laughed. "But I dared check out the toy shop next door and I couldn't resist. Tell your Misha I say happy birthday to her!" He laughed, and the carriage rolled forward.
Alyosha laughed too, burying her face deep into the soft plush. She had often been overstimulated by anything and everything, but this toy, it reminded her of Rakitin's warm, calming embrace. She giggled, muffled by the pillow of a plush. The rain finally broke and came down hard, but Trofim driving seemed just as happy as before.
"Happy birthday, Rakitin," she murmured to herself, a serene smile on her face.