The Bronze Horseman

  Dimitri, for all his purported feelings for Tatiana, had done nothing, as she knew he wouldn’t. Her opinion of Dimitri hadn’t changed a whit. Dimitri was a Soviet man. She did not blame Dimitri for this—for being true to his nature.

  Yet she was using all her strength to deny her own: Tatiana knew that she belonged irrevocably to Alexander.

  She thought she could extricate herself from him, that she could go on with her life somehow, that he could go on with his.

  It was all a sham.

  This wasn’t a way of getting over a passing crush on your older sister’s swain. This was the moon of Jupiter and the sun of Venus aligning in the sky over her head.

  5

  When Alexander walked into his quarters, Dimitri was lying down in his top bunk.

  “What’s going on?” said Alexander tiredly.

  “You tell me,” said Dimitri.

  “Let’s see. Didn’t I just see you? I’m going to sleep. I have to wake up at five tomorrow.”

  “I’ll get to the point, then,” Dimitri said, hopping off the bunk. “I want you to end the charade you’re playing with my girl.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Can’t I just have this one thing for myself? You already have a good life, don’t you? Think about all the things you have that you want. You’re a lieutenant in the Red Army. You have a company of men obeying your every order. I’m not in your company—”

  “No, but you’re in mine, Private,” said Anatoly Marazov, jumping off the bunk next to Alexander’s. “It’s late, and we all have long days ahead of us. You shouldn’t be here raising your voice. You’re here by privilege.”

  Dimitri saluted him. Alexander stood by quietly.

  “At attention, Private,” Marazov said, coming up to Dimitri. “I thought when you came here you were just relaxing, waiting for your friend.”

  “It’s just a small matter between me and the lieutenant, sir,” said Dimitri.

  “It’s only a small matter, Private, when I’m not woken up out of a much-needed sleep. As soon as I’m awake, it ceases to be a small matter and becomes something else entirely. Now, at ease.” Marazov, who was in his long johns, walked around Dimitri, who was fully uniformed, and said, “Can this small matter wait till morning?”

  Alexander stepped in. “Lieutenant, can you give us a few minutes?”

  Trying not to smile, Marazov bowed his head. “As you wish, Lieutenant.”

  “We will take it out in the hall.”

  They stepped out into the corridor; Alexander closed the door behind him. “Dima, what’s the problem? Don’t get yourself into trouble with your commanding officer.”

  “Cut the shit. Tell me, when is it enough for you?” Remaining at a distance from Alexander, Dimitri hissed, “You can have any girl in the world. Why do you want mine?”

  It took all of Alexander’s strength not to ask Dimitri the same question. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. She was getting hurt. I helped her.”

  Dimitri continued, “I’m just a grunt. I have to follow everybody’s orders and eat everybody’s shit. She is the only one who treats me like a human being.”

  She can’t help it. She treats everybody like that. “But, Dima,” Alexander said, “you also have your life. Think of all the things you don’t have that you don’t want. You have not been sent down south, where men are falling into Hitler’s meat grinder. Marazov’s unit is staying here until the front comes to Leningrad. I’ve taken care of that. To help you.” He paused. “Because I’m your friend.” He took a step toward Dimitri. “I have been very good to you over the years. What has happened to our friendship?”

  “Love happened,” snapped Dimitri. “She is more important to me now. I want to survive this fucking war—for her.”

  “Oh, Dimitri,” said Alexander and fell silent. “So survive—for her. Who’s stopping you?”

  Dimitri whispered, “Whatever silly crush she might have, it’s not real. How could it be? She doesn’t know who you are.” Dimitri paused. “Or does she?”

  Alexander’s heart skipped erratically before he answered. The lightbulb next to them was broken. The one down the hall flickered on and off. Sounds of men laughing came from some of the rooms. Water was running. And still they stood silently across from one another. Alexander wondered what Di-mitri was referring to. His indiscreet past? America? He glared at Dimitri. “Of course she doesn’t,” he said at last. “She knows absolutely nothing.”

  “Because if she did, Alexander, it would make things very dangerous, don’t you think? For us.”

  Alexander took a step toward Dimitri, who put out his palms and backed into the wall. “Dimitri,” said Alexander, “don’t fuck with me. I told you, she knows nothing.”

  “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Dimitri said in a small voice, his hands up. “I just want my chance with Tania.”

  His teeth clenched, Alexander turned away and went back to his quarters.

  Lying on his bed with his arms behind his head, Marazov said casually, “Alexander, you want me to take care of Chernenko for you? Is he giving you trouble?”

  Alexander shook his head. “Don’t worry. I can handle him.”

  “We could reassign him.”

  “He’s already been reassigned. Four times.”

  “Oh, nobody wants him, so you give him to me?”

  “Not to you, to Kashnikov.”

  “Yes, and Kashnikov is mine.”

  Getting out a flask and taking a swig of vodka, then passing it to Alexander, Marazov said, “We don’t have enough men to throw in front of Hitler’s tanks to hold Leningrad. We are going to have to surrender, aren’t we?”

  “Not if I can help it,” said Alexander. “We’re going to fight on the streets with rocks, if we have to.” He smiled.

  Marazov saluted him from across the bunks and fell down onto his pillow. “Lieutenant Belov, I haven’t seen much of you off duty. You can’t believe some of the girls that are coming to the club lately.” He grinned.

  Alexander grinned back and shook his head. “No more for me.”

  Marazov lifted his head in surprise. “I don’t understand the words that are coming out of your mouth, Lieutenant. I hear you. I think you’re speaking Russian, but I just can’t believe what I’m hearing. What in fuck’s name is going on?”

  When Alexander didn’t answer, Marazov said, “Wait, wait. You’re not . . . oh, no!” He laughed infectiously. “Now I know you’re full of shit. What happened to you? You’re not dying, are you?”

  “I’m not sleeping, that’s for fucking sure,” said Alexander.

  “Who can I wake up? I can’t keep this to myself.”

  He leaned over his bunk and hit the sleeping soldier beneath him with a pillow. “Grinkov, wake up. You won’t believe it when I tell you—”

  “Fuck off,” Grinkov said, throwing the pillow to the floor and turning away.

  Alexander laughed. “Stop it, you crazy bastard,” he said to Marazov. “Stop it before I have you reassigned.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Alexander, putting a pillow over his face.

  “Wait, is it the girl you keep muttering about in your sleep?”

  Taking the pillow off his face, Alexander said with surprise, “I don’t mutter in my sleep.”

  “Oh, yes you do,” said Marazov. “And how. Grinkov, what does Belov mutter when he is sleeping?”

  “Fuck off,” Grinkov said again, turning to the wall.

  “No, that’s not it. It’s some girl’s name. It’s . . . it’s . . . Alexander, you’re a fiend for keeping it from your fellow officers.”

  “Yes, because you can be trusted,” said Alexander, turning on his side.

  Marazov clapped his hands. “I want to meet this one,” he said. “I need to meet the girl who has taken our wandering Alexander’s horse and cart.”

  Later, as he lay with a heavy chest, unable to sleep, Alexander kn
ew that it was not as easy as a walk in the fields to reconstruct your heart. If his life in the Soviet Union had taught him anything, it had taught him that. But he was going to try—after he had spoken to her. Everything would be easier to carry after he had spoken to her.

  Alexander knew that before he had light instead of darkness, he had to deserve light instead of darkness. The time for him had obviously not come. He still had to earn his stars.

  6

  In the morning Mama asked Tatiana if she was pleased with herself. No, Tatiana replied. Not particularly.

  After they had all left, she started to get ready to go to the hospital. There was a knock on the door, and when she opened it, she found Alexander standing outside.

  “I can’t let you in,” Tatiana said, pointing to Zhanna Sarkova, who walked out of her room and stood in the corridor looking suspiciously at them. Anxiety and excitement mixed in equal measure inside Tatiana. She couldn’t let him inside, couldn’t close the door, not with Sarkova standing watching them, yet—

  “Don’t worry,” Alexander said, striding in. “I’ve got a whole platoon waiting for me downstairs. We’re going to barricade the southeastern streets.” He paused. “Terrible news. Mga fell to the Germans yesterday.”

  “Oh, no, not Mga.” Tatiana remembered Alexander’s words about the trains. “What does it mean for us?”

  Alexander shook his head. “It’s the end. I just wanted to make sure you were all right after yesterday. And,” he said pointedly, “that you weren’t going to work.”

  “I am.”

  “Tatia, no.”

  “Shura, I am.”

  “No.” He raised his voice.

  Glancing behind him, Tatiana said, “I want you to know that that woman is definitely going to say something to my family about you coming by. I guarantee it.”

  “That’s why you’re going to give me my cap that I left here yesterday. During inspection this morning, I got fined. I need it.”

  Tatiana left the door open while Alexander went into the bedroom to retrieve his cap.

  “Please don’t go to the hospital,” he said, coming out and standing in the hallway.

  “Alexander, I’m going crazy. All day, every day. In the hospital at least I’ll see some real suffering. It’ll cheer me up.”

  “Your leg is never going to heal if you stand all day on it. You have a couple more weeks until the cast comes off. Go to work then.”

  “I am not staying here for another two weeks—the only hospital they’ll put me in in two weeks will be a mental hospital!”

  “I wish Kirov weren’t on the front line,” Alexander said softly. “You could go back to work there. I would meet you every day.” He paused. “Like I used to, remember?”

  Did she remember?

  Tatiana’s heart was pounding. But there was Sarkova standing in the corridor watching them through their open door.

  Alexander muttered, “That’s it. I’m fed up,” and shut the door.

  Tatiana opened her mouth and then closed it again. “Oh, no,” she said. “We’re in more and more trouble.”

  He came closer to her.

  She backed away from him.

  Alexander took another step toward her. “How is your nose?”

  “It’s fine. It’s not broken.”

  “And how would you know?” He came closer.

  She put her palms out. “Shura, please.”

  There was a loud knock on the door. “Tanechka, are you all right?”

  “Fine, thank you,” Tatiana called out.

  The door knob turned, and Sarkova opened the door. “I just wanted to know if you’d like me to make you anything to eat.”

  “No, thank you, Zhanna,” said Tatiana, keeping a straight face.

  Sarkova glared at Alexander, who turned to Tatiana and rolled his eyes. Tatiana nearly burst out laughing.

  “We were just leaving,” she said.

  “Oh, where are you going?”

  “Well, I’m going to work—”

  Alexander whispered, “No you’re not.”

  “And Lieutenant Belov is going to build barricades.”

  Alexander turned to Zhanna. “Barricades, Comrade Sarkova,” he said, striding toward her. “Do you know what those are? Structures nearly three meters high by four meters thick, stretching for twenty kilometers.”

  Sarkova backed away into the hall.

  “And each barricade is supplied with eight machine-gun rests, ten antitank positions, thirteen mortar positions, and forty-six machine-gun points.”

  “Oh.”

  “That’s how we protect the city we love,” Alexander said, slamming the door.

  Tatiana stood behind him shaking her head, a smile of delight on her face. “You’ve done it now.” She grabbed her bag. “Let’s go, barricade-builder.”

  They went out, locking the door behind them and leaving Sarkova in the communal kitchen, grumbling into her tea.

  As he was helping her down the stairs, Alexander took hold of her hand. Tatiana tried to pull away. “Alexander—”

  “No.” He brought her to him on the stairwell landing.

  Tatiana felt the rumbling inside her, the rumbling of wood crackling on the rack of fire. “Look,” she said, “I will ask Vera to put me to work in the hospital canteen. Maybe you can come for lunch?” She smiled. “I’ll serve you.”

  Alexander shook his head. “Though few things give me more pleasure than to have you feed me”—he smiled—”we’ll be too far south. I won’t be able to get back in time for lunch.”

  “Shura, let go of me. We’re on a landing in my building . . .”

  He held onto her hand. Sensing something, she said, “What’s wrong?”

  Alexander hesitated, and his chocolate eyes melted sadness onto her. “Oh, Tania. I have to talk to you.” He sighed. “I have to talk to you about Dimitri.”

  “What about him?”

  “I can’t now. I need to talk to you at length and alone. Come and see me tonight at St. Isaac’s.”

  Tatiana’s turbulent heart hammered in her chest. St. Isaac’s! “Alexander, I can barely walk to the hospital three blocks away. How am I going to get to St. Isaac’s?” But Tatiana knew: if she had to crawl dragging one leg behind her, she would get herself to the cathedral.

  “I know. I don’t want you to walk all that way without help. The streets are safe, but you . . .” He stroked her face. “Do you have a friend who can take you up there?” he asked. “Not Anton. A female friend. A single female friend you can trust, who can help you and drop you off nearby? Then you can just walk a block or two by yourself.”

  Tatiana was quiet. “How am I going to get back home?” she said.

  Alexander smiled, bringing her closer to him. “As always,” he said, “I will take you home myself.”

  She stared at his tunic buttons.

  “Tania, we desperately need to have a minute,” he said. “And you know it.”

  She knew it. “This isn’t right.”

  “It’s the only thing that’s right.”

  “All right. Go.”

  “Will you come?”

  “I will try. Now, go.”

  “Lift your—”

  Before he stopped speaking, Tatiana raised her face to him. They kissed deeply. “Do you have any idea what I feel?” Alexander whispered, his hands in her hair.

  “No,” Tatiana replied, holding on to him, her legs numb. “I only have an idea what I feel.”

  That night a miracle happened. Tatiana’s cousin Marina’s phone was working. Tatiana begged Marina to visit her, and Marina came, around eight. Tatiana couldn’t stop hugging her. “Marinka, you are living proof that there is indeed a God in the heavens. I needed you so much,” she said. “Where have you been?”

  “There is no God, you know that. Where have I been?” Marina said, laughing. “Let go of me. Where have you been? I heard all about your escapades in Luga.” She blinked. “I’m sorry about our Pasha.” Brightening a bit, she said
, “Why do you look like a boy?”

  “I have so much to tell you.”

  “Obviously.” Marina sat down at the table in the room where just yesterday Tatiana had stood behind Alexander. “Is there anything to eat? I’m so hungry.”

  Marina was a big-hipped, small-breasted, dark-eyed girl with short black hair and clusters of birthmarks on her face. She was nineteen and in her second year at Leningrad University. Marina was the closest thing Tatiana had to a best friend and a confidante. Marina, Tatiana, and Pasha had spent many summer days romping around Luga and nearby Novgorod. The difference in their ages had become apparent only a year or so ago. Tatiana simply no longer belonged with Marina’s crowd.

  Tatiana hastily gave Marina some bread, some cheese, some tea and said, “Marina, eat quick, because I need to go for a walk, all right? You look pretty in that dress. How was your summer?”

  “We can’t go for a walk. You can’t walk. Look at you. Talk to me here.” Mama and Papa were in the next room with Dasha, listening to the radio. Tatiana and Marina were alone in the room; Tatiana’s family was not speaking to her after yesterday. Chewing, Marina looked Tatiana over. “Start with the hair. What happened to your hair? And why is your skirt so long?”

  “I cut my hair. And the skirt hides the cast. Get up. We need to go.” Tatiana pulled on Marina’s arm. She was in a hurry. Alexander told her to come after ten, and here it was nearly nine, and she was still at Fifth Soviet. Was she prepared to tell Marina everything to get her to help? She pulled again at Marina’s plump arm. “Let’s go. Enough eating.”

  “How are you going to walk? You can barely hobble. And why do we need to go anywhere? When is the cast coming off?”

  “Then let’s go for a hobble. The cast feels as if it’s never coming off. How do I look?”

  Marina stopped eating and eyed Tatiana. “What did you just say?”

  “I said let’s go.”

  “All right,” Marina said, wiping her mouth and standing up. “What is going on?”