Semyon Markovich, an aged yet impeccably dressed millionaire with vast business holdings, found himself in the uncomfortable setting of the police chief’s office, his head hung low in despair. The chief reprimanded him as though he were a child, unable to hide his frustration:
«Semyon Markovich, this is beyond acceptable! We’ve turned a blind eye to your grandson’s misbehavior more times than I can count. However, this incident surpasses all previous ones! Racing on the freeway in a crazed state, wrecking his car and a patrol vehicle, and assaulting an officer. This is inexcusable… Despite my respect for you, I cannot ignore this. Vladimir is now hospitalized under police watch, and he will face the consequences. Maybe some time behind bars will set him straight.»
«Understood, I admit I’ve lost my grip on him; he’s completely out of control. But let’s stay calm. After all, he is my grandson… Give me a week, and I’ll implement severe measures to ensure he causes no further trouble,» pleaded Semyon Markovich with tears in his eyes.
Leaving the police station, flushed with embarrassment and boiling with rage, he stepped into his lavish vehicle and commanded his driver:
«To the hospital—we need to sort out that young rogue!»
As he closed his eyes wearily, Semyon pondered, «When and how did I lose Volodya?» Memories flickered through his mind like scenes from a movie.
In their earlier days, he and his wife, Zinaida, were researchers at an institute, leading a simple yet content life typical of Soviet citizens. They devoted themselves to their son Matvey, nurturing him into a fine young man who excelled in his studies at an economic institute. When the chaotic nineties hit, with jobs scarce and pay meager, Semyon ventured into business. Matvey, still young, was by his side, helping with every aspect as they navigated threats from racketeers and survived the financial crises. Together, they built a formidable business empire.
Running such a vast empire drained their energy, health, and nerves. Matvey married well, and they welcomed a grandson, Volodya, with Semyon hoping to eventually retire and pass the reins to his son.
But tragedy struck. A horrific accident claimed the lives of his son and daughter-in-law, despite emergency responders’ best efforts. The drunk driver responsible was severely penalized, yet nothing could bring Matvey back.
Three-year-old Volodya became an orphan, leaving his grandfather, the wealthy businessman Semyon Markovich, and his grandmother Zinaida devastated. The loss of their only son and his wife was almost too much to bear. Zinaida, in particular, found herself frequently overcome with sorrow.
A month following the tragic funeral, Semyon decided enough was enough, and told Zinaida firmly:
«Enough tears, we have a boy to raise now!»
Gradually, Zinaida found solace in caring for Volodya, loving him deeply and unconditionally. She doted on him, indulging his every whim, allowing him to grow accustomed to getting his way at all times.
Semyon, meanwhile, buried himself in his work to distract from the grief, strengthening his financial empire but neglecting the happenings at home. He returned home nightly exhausted, often just collapsing into bed. On the few occasions he spent time with Volodya, he lavished him with expensive gifts, trying to make up for his absence.
As a result, Volodya became spoiled, arrogant, and disrespectful. He knew how to manipulate his grandmother with pity, especially using the line, «I’m an orphan, and you would still scold me?» This tactic always worked to halt any of Zinaida’s attempts to discipline him.
Volodya performed poorly in school, was disrespectful to teachers, and behaved inappropriately towards his female classmates, confident that his grandfather’s influence and wealth would protect him from any consequences.
This pattern continued into university, where Volodya was only nominally a student. He spent his nights at discos and often came home drunk early in the morning, too inebriated even to remove his shoes.
Zinaida, disturbed by his behavior, would attempt to confront him:
«Volodya, come to breakfast. We need to talk seriously. How long will this continue? I’m telling your grandfather! Remember your father, unlike you, was such a good and smart boy!»
«Granny, spare me the breakfast and lectures. My head is splitting! And don’t threaten me with granddad. All I hear from you is ‘Father this, father that.’ Studying is so dull!» Volodya would retort dismissively.
As time passed, Zinaida’s health declined from the stress of watching Volodya waste his potential, and she eventually passed away. This loss sent Semyon into a deep mourning, during which he neglected Volodya, who spiraled further out of control.
After coming to terms with his grief, Semyon realized he had lost his grandson to reckless behavior. Today’s disaster was the last straw. He needed a radical solution.
Semyon shared his plan with his security team before confronting Volodya in the hospital, where the young man lay with minor injuries.
«Hello, grandson,» Semyon began.
«Hey, grandpa. Don’t be mad, I messed up the car, but it wasn’t really my fault… Also, there’s another issue,» Volodya said, rattling his handcuffs.
«Don’t worry, it’s handled. Get dressed quickly; we’re leaving. And keep those handcuffs on,» Semyon instructed his security before exiting.
Volodya was confused, «Grandpa, what’s going on?»
Little did he know what awaited him. After a long, rough drive, they arrived at a decrepit hut in a remote village.
«Listen up. You think you’re grown enough to drink, party, wreck cars, and brawl with cops, all on my dime? Well, prepare for some independence. This is your new home. There’s a week’s supply of food and a little cash for bread. After that, you’re on your own. Don’t come looking for me. If you try, you’ll end up in jail. Your case is still open, and I’ll ensure it stays that way,» Semyon declared, setting a new, harsh reality for Volodya.
Climbing back into the car, Semyon Markovich signaled the security team. They unfastened Volodya’s handcuffs and departed, stirring up a cloud of dust as they left.
Volodya was in total disbelief, struggling to accept the stark reality of his situation. His first night was spent fully clothed on a rickety, dusty sofa that sagged under his weight. He convinced himself it was merely a harsh lesson from his grandfather, who he was sure would return by morning to bring him home. He couldn’t fathom that his grandfather would abandon him in such a dismal place.
As noon approached the following day, it became painfully clear to Volodya that his grandfather was not coming back. He tried to call Semyon Markovich, hoping to tug at his heartstrings as he had done countless times before, only to discover there was no cell service in this remote location.
Anger soon took hold of him. «Really? Fine then, imagine this! Do they think I’m just a kid? They’ll miss me and come looking within a week. They can’t just forget about me!» he raged internally.
Driven by hunger and necessity, Volodya faced household chores for the first time in his life. The filthy conditions of his temporary home were intolerable—dust and grime were everywhere. Reluctantly, he fetched water from the well, cleaned the floors, and swept with a broom, tasks he had never imagined doing.
By the end of each day, he was so exhausted that even the shabby sofa felt like a sanctuary. Two weeks drifted by without any sign of Semyon Markovich. With his money depleted and food supplies dwindling, panic set in. Volodya cobbled together a makeshift fishing rod, dug for worms, and headed to a nearby pond to try his luck at fishing. There, he encountered Grisha, a local villager and farmer, who, after a good laugh at Volodya’s clumsy fishing efforts, offered to help him.
«Grisha, is there any way to earn decent money around here? I’m out of cash, and it seems granddad isn’t coming to get me. He must be really upset,» Volodya inquired after they became acquainted.
Grisha chuckled and replied, «You’re quite the character! Did you just drop in from another planet? It’s obvious you’re a city boy. Around here, finding a job is as tough as spotting a needle in a haystack. To earn a dime, you have to work hard. If you’re willing, join me at the farm tomorrow. We always need extra hands. We’ll see if you’re up to the task, though you don’t look like you’ve done much labor.»
«Thanks, I guess,» Volodya responded glumly, unenthused by the prospect of farm work but recognizing he had few alternatives.
So began Volodya’s grueling days as a farmhand. Initially resistant and constantly fatigued, his hands grew calloused from the labor, and the stench from the animals was nearly unbearable. Yet, witnessing the skill and efficiency of Grisha and the other workers, he felt too embarrassed to complain.
Interacting with the other laborers and enduring the harsh work under the sun, Volodya slowly gained an appreciation for the value of hard-earned money.
One day off, as Volodya was enjoying a rare moment of rest, a sleek luxury car pulled up to the farm. Overjoyed and relieved, he ran out to greet it, exclaiming, «Hooray, my ordeal is finally over. Granddad’s here!»
Returning to the car, Semyon Markovich gave a nod to the security, who removed Volodya’s handcuffs and drove away, leaving a trail of dust behind.
Volodya was stunned. The harsh reality was hard to digest. That night, he slept fully clothed on an old, musty sofa, half-believing it was all a harsh lesson from his grandfather, who he assumed would return by morning to fetch him. But as the next day wore on, no one came.
The following afternoon, reality sunk in. Volodya attempted to call his grandfather, only to find there was no signal in this forgotten place.
Frustrated and furious, Volodya thought, «Fine, they’ll see. They can’t ignore me forever!» He was confident his absence would be felt, and they’d come looking for him.
Driven by necessity, Volodya began tackling household chores for the first time, cleaning the grimy, neglected shack. By day’s end, he collapsed on the sofa, exhausted yet slowly adapting to his new reality.
Weeks passed with no sign of his grandfather. Food and money dwindled, and out of desperation, Volodya fashioned a makeshift fishing rod and headed to the nearby pond. There, he met Grisha, a local who, after a good laugh at Volodya’s inept attempts, taught him how to fish properly.
During their conversation, Volodya expressed his dire situation. Grisha, amused yet sympathetic, offered him a job on his farm, hinting at the tough reality of rural work.
«Grisha, I need to earn something. My grandfather hasn’t come for me, and I’m out of options,» Volodya confessed.
Grisha chuckled, «Around here, you work hard for every penny. If you’re up for it, join me at the farm tomorrow. It’s tough, but you might manage.»
With no better options, Volodya agreed, marking the beginning of a new chapter. He learned quickly, driven by necessity, and found a sense of pride in his new resilience.
One unexpected day, a luxury car pulled into the farm. Elated, Volodya ran out, expecting his grandfather, only to face his father’s attorney stepping out with grim news.
«I’m sorry, Vladimir. Your grandfather, Semyon Markovich, has passed away. This is his will,» the attorney announced, handing over the document.
Volodya read the will, his hands shaking. It stated all Semyon’s wealth was left to orphanages and shelters; there was no mention of him. Shocked and alone, he felt abandoned anew.
Stunned, Volodya walked to the pond to clear his mind, where he heard a cry for help. Instinctively, he dived in and saved a drowning girl, Tanya, the daughter of the local chairman.
After rescuing Tanya and returning her to her frantic father, Volodya found himself welcomed into their home. The chairman, grateful and impressed by Volodya’s bravery, offered him a job and assistance in fixing up the shack.
As the seasons changed, so did Volodya. He worked on the farm, repaired his home, and grew close to Tanya. They found comfort and love in each other’s company, discussing their dreams under the starlit sky.
One chilly day, as Volodya chopped wood, an unexpected visitor arrived—his grandfather, Semyon Markovich, alive and well, stepping out of a car. Overwhelmed with joy and disbelief, Volodya embraced him tightly.
Semyon, equally moved, surveyed the transformed homestead and his grandson, now matured and content. The hardships had sculpted a new, responsible man out of Volodya, much to his grandfather’s relief and pride.
«Forgive me, Volodya, for the charade! I’m still here, very much alive! I just didn’t know any other way to make you understand, but I missed you too much not to see how you were doing,» the old man confessed, his voice cracking with emotion.
«Come inside, Grandpa. Let me make us some tea. Are you hungry? I’ve got some great stew and cabbage soup that I made myself!»
«Really? You can cook now?» the old man asked, visibly surprised.
«Yes, Grandpa, thanks to you! I’ve really learned how to live out here.»
«So, should we head back home now that you’ve learned your lesson?» the millionaire inquired.
«To be honest, Grandpa, I don’t want to leave. I’ve fallen for a girl, Tanya, and I plan to marry her. I’m happy with the work here; I enjoy the simplicity. The big city life just isn’t for me anymore—it’s all rush and ruthlessness, and it feels so insincere. Why don’t you come here instead? For the wedding, or just to visit. I’d always be happy to see you. We can relax in the sauna, go fishing. And about money—I’ve learned it’s worth so much more when you earn it yourself.»
Hearing this, the grandfather wiped a tear from his eye and smiled broadly. «At last, I hear the words of a true man. I’m so proud of you, Volodya, and I respect your choice deeply. Now, I can leave this world in peace knowing you’ve grown wise.»
The two embraced warmly, spending hours catching up and discussing Volodya’s new life, each moment affirming the old man’s drastic measures had indeed reformed his wayward grandson.
