Okay, he could see Vladivostok now; the lights of the city sparkled below him, at the foot of the hill, like diamonds scattered on black velvet. He drove a little further; it would maybe snow, and he had to be within easy walking distance, in case the car failed once he was done. When he’d found the right spot,Vladek pulled over by the side of the road. He let the car idle, went around to the passenger side and dragged his drunken father out, onto the snow.

The man’s eyes flickered as the cold air hit his face. It was truly freezing now.Vladek reached down and scooped up some snow in his gloved hands. He then rubbed it on his father’s cheeks, and Ivan woke up, completely, angrily. He stared drunkenly at Vladek.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he said.

“I’m about to murder you,” Vladek replied, coldly.

Ivan shook his head. “Don’t be . . .”

He looked at Vladek’s eyes. “No!” he shouted. He swung a heavy fist towards the boy, who yawned and sidestepped it, then aimed a sharp, vicious kick to Ivan’s groin.

Agonizing pain flared through him. He groaned and fell to one knee, throwing up under a tree. A little flurry of snow drifted from the lower branch onto his head.Vladek noted that the man had a bald patch. This infuriated him; he didn’t want to go bald. He kicked Ivan again, harder.

“Oh God!” the man swore. “No! Why?”

“You don’t recognize me,” Vladek said. “Yet I am the mirror of you. I am your son. The son of the whore, who you wanted aborted.”

“I didn’t!” Ivan said. He moaned again, then twisted his head, looked at Vladek. Even through the pain and fear, there was curiosity. Vladek hated him. Where had that emotion been when his mother was pregnant?

“I gave her money,” Ivan said. “Son . . . son . . . be reasonable, I had a family . . .”

“I was your family too.” Vladek’s voice cracked with rage.

“You can forgive,” the man said. “We can start over . . . don’t hurt me, son.” He shuddered. “I’m so cold,” he said, pathetically.

“Yeah. It was cold in the orphanage too. Lots of days,”Vladek said. The fury and hatred rose in him. He reached forward, while his father moaned and begged, and circled his neck with his hands. Then he choked him, squeezing violently, while Ivan kicked and jerked. His legs landed on Vladek a couple of times, but he ignored the pain. He stared at his father until his terrified eyes rolled back in his head.

Vladek let go, checked for a pulse. There was none. He took the money from his father’s wallet, then kicked some snow on top of him. Later tonight the white blanket would come down. It would not melt; there would be more and more snow.