Chapter 9 — Restless Roads

2014 — 4th Grade

The sound of a truck's engine fading into the distance was becoming all too familiar. Ivan stood on the cracked sidewalk, a worn-out backpack slung over his shoulder, watching as his mother lit another cigarette, her new boyfriend unloading a few mismatched boxes from the car. Another apartment. Another new start—or so she liked to say.

Fourteen apartments in one year, Ivan thought bitterly, kicking a loose pebble at his feet. Almost a new one every month. Sometimes every other week.

He glanced at his younger brother, who was busy tracing letters in the dusty sidewalk with a stick, humming quietly to himself. At least he's still smiling.

The constant moving had been brutal. Ivan never had the time to make friends. Every time he'd talk to someone long enough to get past small talk, they'd pack up again. It wasn't even worth trying anymore. Instead, he poured everything into his brother—his one constant in a world that refused to stay still.

One year earlier, Ivan had made a plan—to shape his brother's future before it was too late. And now? A year later, he could see the results.

His brother was officially a 1st grader, walking into school leagues ahead of his classmates. He'd aced the basics of German and English, surprising even Ivan with how quickly he absorbed the languages.

"Ivan, what's 'house' in German again?" his brother asked one evening, sprawled out on the floor with a coloring book.

"Haus."

His brother grinned. "Easy!"

Ivan chuckled. "Good. And remember—next year, when they ask if you want Italian or German, you're picking German."

His brother nodded without hesitation. "I like German better anyway."

Perfect, Ivan thought. One less thing to worry about.

But it wasn't just language skills. Over the year, Ivan had drilled him through math, science, history—everything the kid would need to breeze through the first five grades. It wasn't easy, especially with their chaotic living situation, but his brother was quick, soaking up knowledge like a sponge.

"You think I can finish all nine grades like you said?" his brother asked one afternoon, the two of them huddled at the kitchen table in yet another temporary apartment.

"You will," Ivan promised. "We're going to study after school every day until you've got it all down."

His brother gave him a determined thumbs-up. "Deal."

But life didn't pause for Ivan's plans. In March, the family dynamic shifted again with the birth of their third brother—a tiny baby with a tuft of dark hair, born on March 14th.

For the first time in a long time, their mother actually seemed… attentive. She doted on the baby during the first few months, supported by her new boyfriend, who—for now—kept things stable. There were fewer drunken nights and more quiet afternoons filled with the soft cooing of a newborn.

It won't last, Ivan knew, but he wasn't going to waste the temporary peace.

With their mother distracted by the baby, Ivan could focus more on his brother's studies. They'd turn the kitchen table into a makeshift classroom in each new apartment, scribbling math problems and language drills between unpacking boxes and repacking them again.

The year was a blur of cardboard boxes, scratched floors, and unfamiliar neighborhoods. Ivan's life felt like a film stuck in fast-forward—new apartment, new school district, new faces—and then gone before he could even memorize the street name.

He stopped trying to make friends. What was the point? Every time he started talking to someone long enough to consider it, the rug would get pulled out from under him.

But in the last few months of the year, something unexpected happened.

They stopped moving.

The last apartment—a small, cramped place on the outskirts of town—ended up being the one they stayed in longer than any of the others. Not exactly stable, but long enough that Ivan could finally breathe for a moment.

He sat on the balcony one evening, the sun dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in pinks and oranges. His younger brother was inside, finishing up his reading homework, while the baby napped in the next room.

Alright, Ivan thought, things aren't perfect. But they're better than they could've been.

His brother was thriving, school wasn't a nightmare, and for once, they weren't packing up every other week.

But Ivan knew better than to get comfortable.

I've managed to change some things, he reflected, but there's still so much that could go wrong.

He looked up at the sky, feeling that same relentless determination burning in his chest.

One step at a time.