“What happened to her? Did you make it out of Kobona?”
“I did,” Tatiana said quietly. “She didn’t. She died the morning we got there.”
“Oh, God.”
They didn’t look at each other, and they were silent.
Dragging Dasha down the slope to Ladoga, begging her to hold on, to walk, while Tania herself could not keep upright, yet pushing her sister forward, willing her to live.
“I’m sorry, Tatia,” Alexander whispered.
“Seeing you,” Tatiana said, “brings it all back, doesn’t it? The wounds are still so raw.” That’s when she raised her eyes and looked at him. And Alexander saw the wounds.
Slowly they walked back to everyone else.
Vova slapped Alexander on the shoulder and asked, “So how’s the war going?”
“The war is good, thanks.”
“We hear our guys are not doing so great. The Germans are near Stalingrad.”
“Yes,” Alexander said. “The Germans are very strong.”
Vova slapped Alexander’s shoulder again. “I see they have to keep you fit in war. I’m joining. I’m seventeen next month.”
“I’m sure the Red Army will make a man out of you,” Alexander said, trying to sound more cheerful. He watched Tatiana carry the large bag of sewing. “Want me to carry that?” Alexander asked her.
“No, it’s all right. You’ve got enough of your own things.”
“I brought you something.”
“Me?” Tatiana didn’t look at him when she said it.
What was going on? He said quizzically, “Tania . . . ?”
“Alexander,” Naira said, “tomorrow is our day to go to the banya. Can you wait until then?”
“No. I’ll wash tonight in the river.”
“Surely you can wait one day?” said Naira.
He shook his head. “I’ve been on trains for four days. I haven’t had water on me for too long.”
“Four days!” exclaimed Raisa, shaking. “The man has been on trains for four days!”
“Yes,” cried Naira, wiping her face, “and for what, for what? Oh, what a wasteland this war is, what waste, what tragedy.” The other ladies sniffled in agreement.
Alexander heard a small muffled groan escape Tatiana. He wanted her to look at him. He wanted to look into her face. He wanted her to tell him what was wrong. He wanted to touch her bare arms. He wanted to touch her so badly that . . . but his hands were full of his things. “Tatia . . .” he whispered, leaning deeply into her, nearly touching her hair with his mouth.
He heard her breath stop for a moment, and then she moved away.
In slight frustration he straightened up, noticing that Vova did not stray far from Tatiana’s side, and she did not appear to move away from him.
They ambled down the road. From the small village houses, neighbors poured out in milky lines, some shaking their heads, some pointing, some dabbing their eyes. Many saluted him. One middle-aged lady came over and gave Alexander a sympathetic hug. One old man said, “You make us all proud.” Why did Alexander think it wasn’t for his effort in the war? “The way you came here for your Dasha.” The man pumped his hand. “Anything you need, anything at all, you come to me. I’m Igor.”
Alexander asked quietly, “Tania, why do I feel as if everybody knows me here?”
“Oh, because they all do,” Tatiana said flatly, staring straight ahead. “You are the captain in the Red Army, who has come to marry my sister. They all know that. Unfortunately, she has died. And they all know that, too. And everyone is very sorry.” Her voice remained almost steady.
Sobs from Dusia from behind and Naira from the front. “Alexander,” Naira said, “at home we’ll give you plenty of vodka, and we’ll tell you everything.”
“We?” He glanced at Tatiana. He was hoping the we wasn’t going to be more than two. Why did he suspect it might be?
“Tania, how have you been?” Alexander asked. “How did—”
“Oh, she’s been great,” Vova interrupted, putting his arm around Tatiana. “She’s much better now.”
Alexander stared straight ahead, his gaze clouding. The tick inside him was multiplying.
It was at that moment—when he set his teeth and turned his face away—that Tatiana moved away from Vova to Alexander and put her hand on him. “You must be exhausted, hmm?” she said gently, peering into his face. “Four days on trains. Have you eaten today?”
“In the morning,” he replied, not looking at her.
Tatiana nodded. “You’ll feel better once you’re clean and fed,” she said, smiling. “And shaved.” She squeezed his arm.
He felt better and smiled back. He was going to have to talk to her about Vova. Alexander saw unresolved things in Tatiana’s eyes. The last time they had peace or energy to resolve anything was St. Isaac’s. A moment with her alone and things would get better, but first he had to talk to her about Vova.
“Alexander,” Axinya echoed, “we pulled our Tanechka right out from the jaws of death.” There was a loud wail.
Alexander looked at Tatiana walking next to him, feeling a liquid warmth ooze through him. “Please, let me carry that,” he said.
She was about to give him her sewing bag when Vova intercepted it, saying, “I’ll carry it.”
“Tania,” Alexander asked, “you didn’t by any chance run into Dimitri in Kobona, did you?”
Naira quickly turned around and hissed at Alexander, her eyes bright imploring cups. “Shh. We don’t talk about Dimitri.”
“That bastard!” exclaimed Axinya.
“Axinya, please!” said Naira, turning to Alexander and nodding. “She is right, though. He is a bastard,” she whispered.
Alexander stared at them all, wide-eyed. “Tania,” he said, “am I to assume that you did run into Dimitri in Kobona?”
“Hmm,” she said, and nothing else.
Alexander shook his head. He was a bastard.
Zoe on his left leaned in and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Another reason we don’t talk about Dimitri is because our Vovka’s got a big thing for Tania.”
Moving away from Zoe and toward Tatiana, Alexander muttered, “Really?”
Naira’s house at the top end of the village toward the river was white, wooden, and square. And small. “You all live here?” Alexander asked, glancing at Tatiana, who walked ahead.
“No, no,” Naira said, “just us and our Tania. Vova and Zoe live with their mother on the other side of Lazarevo. Their father was killed in the Ukraine last summer.”
“Babushka,” said Zoe, “I don’t think there’s going to be room in your house for Alexander.”
Alexander looked at the house. Zoe may have been right. In the front garden there were two goats, and three chickens in a wire coop. It looked as if they had plenty of room.
Following Tatiana inside, Alexander walked up a couple of wooden steps into a roomy glassed-in porch that had two small couches at one end and a long, rectangular wooden table at the other. Coming through the porch, he stood in the doorway looking into the darkened parlor room in the middle of which stood a wood-burning stove.
Taking up nearly the entire back of the room, the stove had a long cast-iron hearth and three compartments—the center for burning wood and two side ones for baking. The chimney went up and to the left. Above the stove was a flat surface covered with quilts and pillows. In many village huts across the Soviet Union, the top of the stove was frequently used as a bed. After the fire below went out, it was very warm up there.
In front of the hearth stood a high table for food preparation, and at the back was a sewing machine on a desk, and a black trunk. On the right were two doors, leading to what Alexander guessed were bedrooms.
Tatiana was by his side. “Let me guess,” he said to her. “You sleep up there?”
“Yes,” she replied without meeting his eyes. “It’s comfortable. Come inside for a minute.” She walked through to the desk on the side of the stove.
?
??Wait, wait,” said Naira from behind. “Zoechka is right. We really don’t have much room.”
“That’s all right, I have my tent,” said Alexander, following Tatiana.
“No, no tent,” said Naira. “Why don’t you stay with Vova and Zoe? They have room for you; they have a nice bedroom they could put you in. With a proper bed and everything.”
“No,” said Alexander, turning around to Naira. “But thank you.”
“Tanechka, don’t you think it would be more comfortable for him? He could—”
“Naira Mikhailovna,” said Tatiana, “he already said no.”
“We know,” said Axinya, walking through the porch. “But it really would be more—”
“No,” repeated Alexander. “I will sleep in my tent, right outside. I’ll be fine.”
Tatiana motioned him to her. He couldn’t get to her fast enough. They were alone long enough for her to say, “Sleep here, on top of the stove. It’s very warm.”
He kept his voice even when he said, “And where are you going to sleep?”
Her face turned red, and he couldn’t help himself—he burst out laughing and kissed her cheek. That made her even more red.
“Tania,” he said, “you’re the funniest girl.”
She backed away practically into the porch.
Smiling at her, he said, “Listen, I’m going to go—”
“Go with Zoe and Vova?” said Naira, coming into the room. “That’s a great idea. I knew our Tanechka could convince you. She can talk the devil into a new dress. Zoe!”
“No!” exclaimed Tatiana.
Alexander wanted to kiss her.
“Naira Mikhailovna, he’s not going,” Tatiana said. “He didn’t come all this way to stay with Vova and Zoe. He’ll stay here. He’ll sleep up here.”
“Oh,” Naira said, her breath taken out of her a bit. “And you?”
Could she keep herself from blushing? No, she couldn’t. “I’ll sleep on the porch.”
“Tania, if he’s staying, why don’t you change the linen on your bed so he’ll have fresh sheets.”
“I will,” agreed Tatiana.
“Don’t you dare touch them,” whispered Alexander.
Saying she was going to get Alexander fresh towels, Naira disappeared to her room.
Instantly they turned to each other. She couldn’t manage to look up at him, but she was turned to him and close to him, and—was she smelling him?
“I’m going to go and wash, and I will be right back,” said Alexander, smiling. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He wanted to take hold of hers. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I’m right here. Do you need soap?”
He shook his head. “Got plenty.”
“I’m sure you do. But look what else I’ve got.” Out of her desk drawer she pulled out a small bottle of shampoo. “Found it in Molotov. Cost me twenty rubles.” She handed it to him. “Real shampoo for your hair.”
“You spent twenty rubles on a bottle of shampoo?” he said, mock aghast, taking it from her and grabbing her fingers.
“Better than two hundred and fifty rubles on a cup of flour,” she replied, quickly pulling her fingers away and trying to change the subject.
“Was that twenty of my rubles?”
“Yes,” she said quietly. “The rubles in your book came in very handy. Thank you.” She did not look at him. “Thank you for everything.”
“I’m glad they did, and you’re welcome. For everything.” He could not tear his eyes away from her. “Tatiasha, you’ve gotten so blonde.”
She shrugged casually. “It’s the sun.”
“And so freckled—”
“The sun.”
“And so—”
“Let me point you to the river.”
“Wait. Look what I’ve brought for you.” Crouching near his bag, he showed her many cans of tushonka, some coffee, a large bag of lump sugar, rock salt, cigarettes, and bottles of vodka. “And I got you another English-Russian book,” he said. “Have you been practicing your English?”
“Not really,” Tatiana replied. “I haven’t had time. I can’t believe you carried all that. It must have been so heavy.” Pausing, she said, “But thank you. Come on outside.”
Taking a towel from Naira, they walked through the porch and down the steps to the back garden. Alexander stood as close to Tatiana as possible without his body actually touching hers. He knew that six pairs of eyes were on them from the porch. Tatiana pointed. Alexander wasn’t even looking at where she was pointing. He was looking at her blonde eyebrows. He wanted to touch them with his fingers.
He wanted to touch her with his fingers.
Missing a breath, he touched the faint scar above the brow where she had been injured during the fight with her father. “That’s almost gone,” he said quietly. “Can’t even see it.”
“If you can’t see it,” Tatiana said lightly, “then why are you touching it?” She didn’t look at him. “Alexander,” she said, “can you look where I’m pointing? It’s right through the pines. Will you look? Just cross the road, and there’s a path between the trees. Walk down a hundred meters into the clearing. I do the laundry there. You can’t miss it. The Kama is a big river.”
“I’ll get lost, for sure,” said Alexander, bending to her ear and lowering his voice. “Come and show me.”
“Tania has to cook dinner,” said Zoe, coming up to them. “Why don’t I show you?”
“Yes,” Tatiana said, backing away. “Why doesn’t Zoe show you? I really do have to start cooking if we’re to eat tonight.”
Alexander said, “No, Zoe. Excuse us,” and he pulled Tatiana away. “Come with me to the river,” he repeated. “You can tell me what’s upsetting you, and I’ll—”
“Not now, Alexander,” Tatiana whispered. “Not now.”
Sighing, he let go of her and went by himself. When he returned, clean and shaven, dressed in his Class-Bs, he saw that Zoe was shamelessly interested in him. Alexander wasn’t surprised. In a town with no young men, he could have had one eye and no teeth and Zoe would have been interested. Tatiana was another story. She obstinately avoided meeting his eyes. While leaning over the hearth and her frying pans, she said, “You’ve shaved.”
“How would you know?” He was staring at her back and hips as she leaned over in her yellow dress. Her waist tapered into her tight, round-as-a-moon hips, and the backs of her bare thighs peeked out below the short hem. He was pulsing inside. “Tania, this village life agrees with you,” Alexander said after a few moments.
Straightening up, she was about to walk to the porch when he grabbed her hand and put it to his cheek. “Do you like it better smooth?” He rubbed her hand back and forth against his face and then kissed her fingers.
Gently she pulled her hand away. “I haven’t seen much of you clean-shaven,” she muttered. “Either way is fine. I’m covered in onions, Alexander,” she said. “I don’t want to get you all messy. You just got so nice and . . . clean.” She cleared her throat and averted her eyes.
“Tatia,” he said, not letting go of her floury hand, “it’s me. What’s the matter?”
She raised her eyes to him and blinked, and he saw hurt in her eyes, hurt, and warmth, and sadness, but hurt foremost, and he started to say, “What—”
“Alexander, dear, come in here with us. Let Tania finish making dinner. Come, have a drink.”
He went out to the porch. Naira handed him a shot of vodka. Shaking his head, Alexander said, “I’m not drinking without Tatiana. Tania! Come.”
“She’ll drink the next one with us.”
“No,” he said. “She’ll drink the first one with us. Tania, come out here.”
She came out, smelling sweetly of potatoes and onions, and stood next to him.
Naira said, “Our Tanechka doesn’t even drink.”
“I’ll drink to Alexander,” Tatiana said. Alexander handed her his vodka glass, his fingers touching hers. Naira poured him another. They raised their glass
es. “To Alexander,” said Tatiana, her voice breaking. Her eyes were filled with tears.
“To Alexander,” they echoed. “And to Dasha.”
“And to Dasha,” Alexander said quietly.
They drank, and Tatiana went back inside.
A dozen people from the village came by before dinner, all wanting to meet Alexander, all bringing small gifts. One woman brought an egg. One old man a fishhook. Another man a fishing line. One young girl a few hard candies. Every one of them shook his hand, and some bowed, and one woman got on her knees, crossed herself, and kissed the glass he was holding. Alexander was moved and exhausted. He took out a cigarette.
Vova said, “Why don’t we take that outside? Our Tania has a hard time with smoke in the house.”
Alexander put away his cigarette, swearing under his breath. To have Vova look out for Tania’s welfare was too much. But before he could say another word, he felt Tatiana’s hand on his shoulder and her face right in front of him as she put an ashtray on the table. “Smoke, Alexander, smoke,” she said.
Petulantly Vova said, “But, Tania, the smoke bothers you. That’s why we all go outside.”
“I know I said that, Vova,” Tatiana declared. “But Alexander didn’t come all the way from the war to smoke outside. He’ll smoke where he pleases.”
Shaking his head, Alexander said, “I don’t need to smoke.” He wanted her hand on his shoulder and her face in front of him again. “Tania, do you need help?”
“Yes, you can help by getting up and eating my food. It’s dinnertime.”
The four ladies sat on one side of the long table that was flanked by two benches. “Usually Tatiana sits on the end. So she can get up and get stuff, you know?” Zoe smiled.
“Oh, I know,” said Alexander. “I’ll sit next to her.”
“Usually I sit next to her,” said Vova.
Shrugging and not interested in dealing with Vova, Alexander looked at Tatiana and raised his eyebrows.
She wiped her hands on a towel and said, “How about if I sit between Alexander and Vova.”
“Fine,” said Zoe. “And I’ll sit on the other side of Alexander.”
“Fine,” said Alexander.
Tatiana had made a cucumber and tomato salad and cooked some potatoes with onions and tushonka. She opened a jar of marinated mushrooms. There was white bread, some butter, milk, cheese, and a few hard-boiled eggs.