Semyon Markovich, an elderly yet meticulously groomed millionaire who owned a variety of firms and companies, found himself seated in the police chief’s office, his head bowed as if he wished to disappear into the floor. The police chief was reprimanding him like a schoolboy.
“Semyon Markovich! This is utterly unacceptable! We’ve turned a blind eye to your grandson’s mischief before, but this incident surpasses all prior ones. Organizing highway races in a frenzied state, wrecking his own car and a police cruiser, then assaulting an officer—this is intolerable… With all due respect, I can’t just overlook this. Vladimir is now hospitalized under police watch, and he will face his consequences in prison. Maybe that will straighten him out.”
“Yes, I acknowledge it. The boy has slipped beyond my grasp, becoming utterly wayward. But let’s not lose our tempers. After all, he’s my grandson. Just give me a week to implement severe measures; he won’t trouble you again,” the businessman implored, his voice filled with desperation.
Leaving the police station, Semyon’s face was as red as a boiled lobster, his anger seething. He stepped into his luxurious car and instructed the driver sternly:
“To the hospital—we need to deal with this rascal!”
As he closed his eyes wearily, Semyon pondered, “When did I lose my way with Volodya?” He reminisced about life’s earlier, simpler times with his wife, Zinaida, at the research institute. They had lived modestly but contentedly, nurturing their son Matvey who excelled academically and graduated top of his class. However, the challenging nineties drove Semyon to venture into business with Matvey, navigating threats and economic turmoil together until establishing a formidable business empire.
This empire, though rewarding, demanded tremendous effort and often kept Semyon away from home, leading to a strained family dynamic. Matvey’s tragic death in an accident left their young grandson, Volodya, in their care. The couple’s overwhelming grief and Zinaida’s doting indulgence spoiled Volodya, setting him on a path of arrogance and entitlement. The boy, used to getting his way and unchecked by his grandparents, spiraled out of control, his behavior worsening over the years.
As Volodya’s life filled with recklessness and disdain for authority, Semyon and Zinaida found themselves increasingly helpless. Zinaida’s health declined under the stress, and after her death, Semyon faced the grim reality alone. His grandson had become a stranger—a rebellious, unruly figure, far from the boy he hoped would carry on the family legacy.
Today, faced with Volodya’s latest debacle, Semyon knew drastic measures were necessary. With a resolve hardened by love and disappointment, he walked into Volodya’s hospital room with a plan to finally set things right.
“Hello, grandson,” he began grimly as he entered.
“Hey, grandpa. Sorry about the mess. It just happened, you know? And, uh, there’s a bit of an issue,” Volodya jangled his handcuffs sheepishly.
“Don’t worry, it’s already settled. Get dressed, we’re leaving. Keep the cuffs on,” Semyon instructed the security firmly before exiting the room, determined to end the cycle of indulgence and misbehavior that had plagued their family.
If only he had known what awaited him… They traveled for hours along dusty, uneven roads, the journey stretching on for eight hours. Throughout, the young man oscillated between hysteria and outrage.
«Where are you taking me? Grandpa, what is this? What sort of game are you playing?» he shouted.
«It’s a very useful game called ‘work therapy.’ You’ll understand soon enough!» Semyon Markovich retorted sharply.
The young man quieted down, thinking it best not to provoke his grandfather further, and even managed to doze off.
«Wake up, Volodya, we’ve arrived,» Semyon said with a sly grin as the car stopped.
Blinking away his confusion, Volodya looked around. They were in a desolate village, facing a rundown hut surrounded by no real fence. He couldn’t fathom why they were here.
«Listen closely, my dear grandson. You seem to think you’re mature enough to drink, party, wreck cars, and clash with the police—and all on my dime. Well, it’s time you learned about independence. This is your new home. You’ll find a week’s supply of food and essentials in the basement, and here’s some money, just enough for bread for a week. From now on, you’re on your own. Don’t come looking for me. If you think about returning, remember, your case is still open, and I can ensure you face the consequences,» Semyon declared.
With that, he signaled to the security, who uncuffed Volodya and then drove away, leaving him in a cloud of dust.
Shocked, Volodya spent his first night on a dusty, sagging sofa, dressed and in disbelief. He assumed it was a harsh lesson and expected his grandfather to return by morning to fetch him. But as the next day wore on, he realized no one was coming. He tried to call his grandfather but discovered there was no cell reception in this forsaken place.
Anger bubbled within him. «Fine then! They’ll see, they’ll come looking when they start missing me,» he muttered defiantly.
Driven by necessity, Volodya began to adjust to his new life. He cleaned the hut, fetched water from the well, and tried his hand at fishing, only to be mocked by a local fisherman named Grisha who, after a good laugh, took pity on him and offered some help.
«Grisha, is there any decent way to earn money around here? Because I’m out of cash, and it seems my granddad isn’t in a hurry to fetch me,» Volodya asked.
Grisha chuckled, «You’re quite the character! Fell from the sky, did you? It’s tough around here; you need to work hard for every penny. If you’re willing, come to the farm tomorrow. We always need extra hands.»
Reluctantly, Volodya agreed. The days that followed were grueling. He worked hard, gained calluses, and slowly learned the value of honest labor. He began to appreciate the efforts of his fellow workers and the worth of every earned penny.
One day, a luxurious car pulled up to the cottage. Elated, Volodya ran out expecting his ordeal to be over, only to be met by his grandfather’s lawyer who bore tragic news.
«Please accept my condolences, Vladimir. Your grandfather, Semyon Markovich, has passed away. Here’s his will,» the lawyer said solemnly.
Stunned, Volodya read the will three times. His grandfather had left all his wealth to orphanages and shelters; there was no mention of him. As the lawyer drove away, Volodya stood frozen, his future as bleak as the dilapidated shack he now called home.
His despair was interrupted by screams from the pond—a girl was drowning! Instinctively, Volodya dived in, managing to save her. As she regained consciousness, shivering, she murmured that she was the local chairman’s daughter.
Carrying her to her home, Volodya was met with gratitude and relief from her father, who invited him in to rest.
As they sat in the kitchen, the chairman shared his own tale of stubbornness and regret over his daughter’s arranged marriage, which had driven her to desperation. Volodya, in turn, opened up about his own struggles and the harsh lessons his grandfather had imposed on him.
In this unexpected way, through saving a life and sharing his burdens, Volodya found new connections and perhaps a new path forward in the very village that was supposed to be his punishment.
«You’ve certainly landed yourself in a fine mess, young man,» the man observed as he stretched out.
«You know, you seem like a decent fellow. You saved my daughter, after all. How about this—I’ll give you a job as a driver. I’ll also supply you with some firewood to fix up the house. Stick with it, stay away from the bottle, and you’ll make it,» the chairman proposed.
«I’ll take it!» Volodya exclaimed, his spirits lifting.
Gradually, life began to look up for him. Volodya proved to be quite handy; he repaired the stove in time for winter, erected a new fence, and even constructed a sauna. He grew close to Tanya, spending long evenings walking and chatting with her, captivated by her graceful presence, her wild auburn hair, and her soft, cat-like demeanor. He marveled at how he ever admired the superficial glamor of city girls.
Life in the village was turning out far better than he had anticipated, especially during the evenings when the fog rolled in, the air cooled, the stars sparkled, the scent of herbs filled the air, and the cicadas sang. Over time, Volodya and Tanya grew closer and fell in love, much to the delight of her father who saw his daughter happy and cared for.
As winter neared, Volodya was chopping firewood in the yard when the family dog, Bim, began barking fiercely. «Who could it be?» Volodya wondered.
He was stunned to see his grandfather step out of a car. He rushed to him, embracing him tightly, tears of joy welling up: «Grandpa! You’re alive? Oh, how I’ve missed you!»
Semyon Markovich was equally stunned by the transformations around him. The house was in excellent order, the surroundings well-kept. His grandson looked healthy and mature, nothing like the spoiled young man he had been.
«Forgive me, grandson, for my harsh method! I’m alive! I just didn’t know any other way to make you understand. But I couldn’t stay away any longer; I had to see how you were doing,» the businessman confessed, his voice choked with emotion.
«Come inside, Grandpa. Shall I make some tea? Are you hungry? I’ve got some hearty meat and excellent cabbage soup.»
«You learned to cook?» Semyon marveled.
«Grandpa, I owe it all to you. I’ve learned to truly live here!»
«So, shall we head back home? Seems the lesson did you some good,» Semyon hinted.
«Honestly, Grandpa, I don’t want to leave. I’ve fallen in love with Tanya, and I want to marry her. I’m satisfied here. The big city, with all its hustle and malice, isn’t for me anymore. It’s too frantic, too fake. Why don’t you come here for the wedding, and just to visit? We’ll enjoy the sauna, go fishing. I’ve realized that when you earn something yourself, you value it far more,» Volodya expressed earnestly.
Hearing this, Semyon’s eyes welled up with pride. «At last, I hear the words of a true man. I’m proud of you, Volodya. I respect your decision and now I can pass on without worry.»
Embracing warmly, grandfather and grandson spent a long time catching up, discussing plans and sharing stories, content in each other’s company.
