Chapter 15: A birthday party – Aurica – January 7

  Anton thought back to three weeks ago when Lady Ruth last visited him. On the morning before she left, she had encouraged him to take more interest in Natalia's activities. Ruth had explained to him that Natalia would feel loneliness during the holidays. She was in a new place and had few, if any, friends. Her mother had forced her to reunite with a father she barely knew. To have one lonely experience on the special festive day would be difficult, but to have a second a week later, would be depressing: Natalia's birthday followed Christmas by thirteen days.

  Ruth had suggested Anton throw his daughter a birthday party even if there would be few guests. She would add herself to the guest list in order to flesh it out somewhat. Anton recalled graciously thanking her for her advice and willingness to participate. There really were no other guests on the list. Even though his ex-wife's parents also lived in Ontario, Anton had had no contact with them since the separation. When he asked Natalia if he should invite them, she informed him that she had not seen or spoken to them for over three years.

  As Anton turned the corner and walked into his farmhouse living room, he was shocked to see the room covered in festive and birthday decorations. It seemed excessive to him, however, he had little with which to compare it. The last time he attended Natalia's birthday party she was 5 years old and her mother did all the decorating. He could vaguely remember conical-shaped headgear and helium-filled balloons in multiple pastel shades.

  He recalled that initially, based on Ruth's advice, he had offered to decorate for the party. Natalia had encouraged him, however, to withdraw his offer. She had said, "You'll probably screw it up, dad," and after briefly ruminating over her comment, he had agreed with her.

  Now however, as he looked at the room, he felt a tinge of guilt: he should have done something! He had allowed his now 13-year-old daughter to decorate all by herself. As he thought about Lady Ruth's imminent arrival, Anton worried that Ruth might inadvertently discover that he had not helped his daughter and then would scold him for neglecting his parental duties.

  His guilt compelled Anton to announce, "You've done a magnificent job, Natalia, with the decorations. The living room looks both celebratory and festive!"

  Smiling and shrugging her shoulders, Natalia remarked, "I'm glad you like it, dad. I never did this before. I think mom would have been too uptight about cleaning it all up afterwards!”

  Diplomatically, he replied, "Well, I recall your mother had high standards for tidiness!"

  Bluntly, Natalia questioned, "You mean she's an anal neat freak?" She smiled again, then encouragingly added, "It’s okay; you can say it!"

  "Uh, well – no point now, really . . ."

  Blithely interrupting him, Natalia continued, "Anyways, dad, I like that you are laid back about this sort of thing and I appreciate that you don't hound me over the simplest of things like she did."

  As she tied up a bunch of balloons, the surprised Anton stated, "Oh, well, uh . . . thank you!" Natalia had not previously revealed any sort of evaluation of his parental abilities, outside of knocking him unconscious with a volleyball. Her comments suggested to Anton that things had improved immensely.

  Teasingly, she asked, "So . . . do you have a surprise gift for me? Did you get me concert tickets or am I going to a lacrosse game?" She knew he had no idea about her interests. He had probably bought her a gift card from Wal-Mart.

  Enthusiastically, Anton began, "Actually, I do have a good . . ." He stopped when car headlights washed across the living room and distracted both of them.

  Natalia called out, "Looks like Lady Ruth made it on time!"

  They both went to the front door to greet Ruth who offered Natalia birthday greetings with a friendly peck on both cheeks. Then Anton offered his hand to shake as usual, but was stunned when Ruth hugged him.

  After an awkward pause, he ushered Ruth into the decorated living room. She gasped when she saw the improvement. The room appeared warm and lived-in rather than in its usual neglected state.

  As Anton saw her reaction, he thought back to when they had first planned this party. Ruth had suggested to him that, in addition to a typical teen birthday party, he should also plan a celebration of his Ukrainian heritage: January 7 was Christmas Day in the Ukraine.

  Anton asked, "Who wants a drink?"

  "Ooo – sounds delightful," answered Ruth. "Something traditional, please."

  "I'll have an eggnog, dad," requested Natalia, with a smile.

  As Anton rose to depart, Natalia began explaining to Ruth the motivations behind her decorative touches. He could hear them happily chattering away behind him as he exited.

  When he entered the kitchen, he saw the table setting and noted how traditional it looked. Seeing this, Anton suddenly found himself travelling back in his mind to the last time he had celebrated an actual traditional Christmas meal and concluded that it was in 1985 when he still lived in the Soviet Union with both his parents. He realized that in fact, he was 13 then, the same age his daughter turned today. His memories grew bittersweet quickly however, because they predated the nuclear accident. It was a fond memory, but a memory of an event that had preceded tragedy.

  As he walked towards the fridge door, he stopped and pulled out his wallet. He read his laminated birth certificate: 'Chernobyl, Union of Soviet Socialist Republic, 1972'. It occurred to him that no one on Earth could produce such a certificate dated after 1986. This was not because the USSR disbanded in 1990; it was because the area became a toxic wasteland after the nuclear accident there.

  The accident made living anywhere within a hundred miles of Chernobyl prohibitive; thus, the government evacuated the area immediately after the disaster. The last time he saw any pictures of the place was in a recent National Geographic article. It spoke of 'nuclear half-life being 50+ years'. Anton understood this term better than almost anyone alive did: 'half-life' was a euphemism for 'total-death'.

  Ambient radiation from the blast eventually caused both his parents to die of cancer along with thousands of others. The wind became death back then. It recognized no borders. Wherever it blew, it spread the toxins. When his father succumbed to cancer in 1989, three years after his mother had, Anton knew when he left Russia thereafter, that his return was unlikely: he had neither home nor family to return to in the Ukraine.

  Even now, he felt certain that Chernobyl would be neither a birth place, nor a home to humans during his remaining lifetime, and Anton would be one of a dwindling number of people who would ever see 'Chernobyl' written on a birth certificate. The idea was absurd. More likelihood of finding a one-legged albino gorilla wearing a poncho than a Chernobyl-born live person.

  Suddenly, he heard his daughter snorting with laughter in the next room and he turned to face his refrigerator. He needed to pour the drinks. He poured eggnog into a tumbler and then two freezer-chilled vodkas into shot glasses – the latter a traditional toast for himself and his traveller. Before he moved a step, however, he quickly downed one vodka shot. He told himself he was a royal tester but knew his memories were the cause.

  He refilled his glass, and while doing so, the curious scientist in him emerged, demanding he smell Natalia's chosen beverage. His scientific interest diminished quickly when he formed a one-word conclusion about the drink: vile!

  It was hardly a Ukrainian tradition to drink eggnog, but he reminded himself that she liked the concoction. He needed to understand his daughter better. He resolved to keep his eggnog thoughts to himself.

  He drank his second shot of vodka very quickly; felt the warmth of a tear enter the small glass as he did so; and then refilled it again. He found a small silver tray on the kitchen counter that he was sure he had never seen before; piled the drinks onto it; and then strode forth into the celebratory living room zone.

  Natalia teased him, asking, "Dad, where did you go for our drinks, frickin' Chicago?" Then, turning to Ruth, Natalia added, "Ruth says you two have a surprise offer to make me for my birth
day – I can't wait to hear about it!"

  Turning his face away to hide his freshly wiped eyes, Anton weakly replied, "Ah . . . sorry Natalia, I was just . . . daydreaming."

  In a teasing fashion also, as she took her glass, Ruth stated, "Ah, Anton, I see your tastes in alcohol run as leanly as your tastes in home decoration – the present amendment aside of course!"

  "Well stated, Ruth. I could not agree more even if I might prefer not to!"

  After she sipped the chilled shot glass and let out a small gasp due to its strength, Ruth remarked, "Just teasing!"

  Genuinely, Natalia remarked, "I could brew you a tea to drop it into if you prefer, Lady Ruth!"

  Having never previously imagined the combination, Ruth questioned, "Tea and vodka?"

  As he touched Ruth's glass with his own in a toast, Anton smiled and said, "Together at last!"

  "Thank you, Natalia, but I will stumble forth unaided," replied Ruth, winking at them both.

  Enthusiastically, Natalia demanded, "What's the secret gift you two have then?"

  Ruth replied, "Ah yes, would you like to suggest it to her, Dr. Yakushev, or shall I?"

  Anton reasoned, "As it was your initial suggestion, I insist you take credit!"

  Ruth suspected him of parental-filial uncertainty. She thought he might prefer a non-relative to make the suggestion in case Natalia's reaction was poor. Ruth suspected that Anton thought Natalia would at least be polite to her.

  As if she had rehearsed it, Ruth asked, "Natalia, I wonder if you would enjoy a membership to the Shen Lung Karate Club in a place called 'Escape to Estates'." Then, because in her opinion 'rural' and 'suburb' made little sense juxtaposed, Ruth cautiously added, "I understand Escape to Estates is a nearby so-called 'rural-suburb'."

  Natalia stopped to consider this for a moment and Ruth noticed that Anton appeared to brace himself for an assault; however, Natalia exclaimed, "Excellent!"

  Bringing her hands together in a silent clap, Ruth delightedly declared, "I thought you might!"

  Enthusiastically, Natalia asked, "Do I get to wear the outfit too?"

  Entirely unfamiliar with such an institution, Anton answered, "I suppose there would be an appropriate . . . costume or . . . uniform, Natalia,"

  Quickly, Natalia declared, "Cool!" Then she began moving and continued, "I accept!" Natalia resembled an Olympic long jumper as she seemingly bounced out of the living room towards the kitchen in one manoeuvre, saying, "Let's eat!"

  Once they were all in the kitchen, Anton dutifully refilled the adult beverages and was mildly surprised that Ruth accepted a second chilled vodka shot with a smile. He refilled Natalia's empty glass with more eggnog, as Ruth surveyed the kitchen table.

  As she scrutinized, Ruth questioned, "Now then, what have we here? This looks like the table setting for a traditional Ukrainian 12-dish evening supper. Is this dumpling filled with appropriate ingredients like sauerkraut, mushroom and poppy seed?"

  Diplomatically, Anton replied, "Well, Natalia lacked confidence in her ability to consume any of those ingredients, and so we compromised; these are Polish pierogis . . . with cheddar!"

  With equivalent tact, Ruth responded, "Ah! Well, of course, those flavourful ingredients take a bit of getting used to." Then Ruth continued, "So how about the fish dish?" After a second glance of the table, Ruth declared, "My, you must have done something amazing to it, Anton, for I cannot detect it here on the table at all!" Ruth asked, "It is usually herring or carp, yes?"

  Apologetic, Anton replied, "That's quite right Ruth – and even pike is used – but, again . . . Natalia had actually never eaten any of those before."

  With respect, Natalia admitted, "I didn't think it was a smart move, Lady Ruth. I didn't want to be hurling it up half way through."

  "But of course not," began Ruth, with a queasy smile, "most considerate of you to think of others, dear!"

  Enthusiastic again, Natalia added, "But, you know, we did get some battered mushrooms!" Then she explained, "I can handle them if they're breaded . . . and have a Chinese sweet and sour dipping sauce like these do!"

  A tad less enthusiastically, Ruth commented, "Indeed."

  Natalia continued, "And, dad told me he knew how to make this cool dessert where you add potato starch to cranberry juice and make a kind of soup."

  Anton interjected, "It is called kisiel in fact, Lady Ruth."

  With Ruth's expectations lifted, Natalia confessed, "Yeah, but I told him it sounded like a waste of good cranberry juice. Instead we got jam-filled doughnuts for dessert, as well as my favourite kind, Bavarian crème-filled!"

  Ruth repeated, "Bavarian?"

  Natalia continued, "Yeah, and we do have some cranberry . . . in the stuffing!"

  Echoing again, Ruth asked, "Stuffing?"

  Natalia explained, "Yeah, for the turkey!"

  Weakly, Ruth remarked, "Turkey . . . too?"

  Sure that the spread was impressive, Natalia kept enthusiastically explaining, "Great, huh? Dad went all out. He even splurged for my favourite cheese – Swiss!"

  Warily, Ruth asked, "Wasn't there something in the tradition about a Nativity Fast, Anton?"

  Sheepishly, Anton replied, "Yes; that is correct, Ruth."

  In a good-natured reproach, Ruth asked, "No meat, dairy, or eggs?"

  Before he could answer, Natalia enthusiastically interrupted, "Oh, do you like devilled eggs too, Ruth? I thought I was the only one." Then she lifted a plate of the dish up, and proudly announced, "I made these ones myself!" Then she added, "I put a splash of teriyaki in with the traditional spices. They're yummy!"

  While Ruth winked at Anton, a smile formed on her face, and she said, "I can imagine!" Anton let out a mild sigh and Ruth placed a commiserating hand on his shoulder, saying, "I'm sure you did your best, Anton. It all looks lovely! Let's tuck in!"

  As she finished the suggestion, she sat down to eat. The others joined her and they ate heartily and made merry.

  By the time the evening had ended, Anton could not recall having experienced a happier occasion for almost a decade. He made his Ukrainian New Year's resolution early: he resolved to make more friends!