The Bronze Horseman (65 page)

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 glasses. “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.

“What can I get you, Shu—?” asked Tatiana, sliding in next to him. “Do you want some salad?”

“Yes, please.”

She stood up. “What about some mushrooms?”

“Yes, please.”

Tatiana spooned food onto his plate, standing near him. The only reason Alexander let her continue and didn’t get the food himself was because her bare leg was touching his trousers and her hip was pressing into his elbow. He was going to have her get him seconds and thirds to keep her standing this close to him. His urge was to put his arm around her waist. He took his fork instead. “Yes, please, some potatoes, too. Yes, that’s plenty. Some bread, yes, that’s good, butter, yes.”

Alexander thought she would sit down, but no, she walked around the table and ladled out food for the old ladies.

And then she served Vova. Alexander’s heart tightened when he saw her serve Vova with casual familiarity. Vova thanked her, and she smiled lightly, looking right at him.

At Vova she looked. At Vova she smiled. For God’s sake, thought Alexander. The only thing that prevented him from feeling worse about it was that in Tania’s eyes he saw nothing for Vova.

Finally she sat down.

“Tania,” he said, “I’m so glad to see food in front of you again.”

“Me, too,” she replied.

The rooms were so dark that he could not see her well, but he could see blood trickling from her mouth as she cut the black bread for him, for Dasha, and, last, for herself.
Now she was eating white bread, and butter, and eggs. “Much better, Tatia,” he whispered. “Thank God.”

“Yes,” she said, and nearly inaudibly, “Thank
you.
”

Zoe’s annoying elbow intermittently and purposefully rubbed against Alexander’s. Zoe played the game very well. Alexander wondered if Tatiana even noticed Zoe.

Moving away from Zoe, Alexander scooted closer to Tatiana. “Just to give you a bit more room, Zoe,” he said with an indifferent smile.

“Yes, but look,” said Naira, who was sitting across from them, “now poor Tanechka is all squished.”

“I’m fine,” said Tatiana. Under the table her leg was flush with his. He nudged her once.

“So,” Alexander said, eating hungrily, “have I had enough to drink for you to tell me what happened to you?”

Tears. Not from Tatiana, from the four ladies. “Oh, Alexander! We don’t think you’ve had enough to drink to hear it all.”

“Can I hear some of it?”

Naira said, “Tania doesn’t like us to talk about it, but, Tanechka, for Alexander, can we tell him what happened?”

“For Alexander, yes, tell him what happened.” Tatiana sighed.

“I want Tania to tell me what happened,” Alexander said. “Do you want more vodka?”

“No,” she replied, pouring one for him. “Alexander, there is really not much to tell. Like I told you, we got to Kobona. Dasha died. I came here and was sick for a while—”

“Near death, I tell you!” exclaimed Naira.

“Naira Mikhailovna, please,” said Tatiana. “I was a little sick.”

“Sick?” Axinya cried. “Alexander, that child got to us in January and was at death’s door until March. What didn’t she have? She had scurvy—”

“She was bleeding from the inside out!” mouthed Dusia. “Just like our former Tsarevich Alexis. Just like him. Bled and bled.”

“That’s scurvy for you,” said Alexander gently.

“The Tsarevich did not have scurvy,” said Tatiana. “He had hemophilia.”

“Have you forgotten about her double pneumonia?” cried Axinya. “Both her lungs collapsed!”

“Axinya, please,” said Tatiana. “It was only one lung.”

“It was the pneumonia that almost killed her. She couldn’t breathe,” Naira stated, sticking her hand across the table for Tatiana to pat.

“It wasn’t pneumonia that nearly killed her!” Axinya exclaimed. “It was TB. Naira, you’re so forgetful. Don’t you remember her coughing up blood for weeks?”

“Oh, my God, Tania,” whispered Alexander.

“Alexander, I’m fine. Really,” said Tatiana. “I had a mild case of TB. They cured it even before I got out of the hospital. The doctor said soon I should be as good as before. The doctor said by next year the TB would be all gone.”

“And you were going to let me smoke inside.”

“So what?” she said. “You always smoke inside. I’m used to it.”

“So what?” cried Axinya. “Tania, you were in an isolation tent for a month. We sat by her, Alexander, as she lay, coughing, spitting blood—”

“Why don’t you tell him how you got TB?” said Naira loudly.

Alexander felt Tatiana shudder next to him. “That I’ll tell him later.”

“When later?” whispered Alexander out of the corner of his mouth. She did not whisper back.

“Tania!” exclaimed Axinya. “Tell Alexander about what you had to go through to get here. Tell him.”

“Tell me, Tania,” he said, looking at her with feeling. The food she made was so good; otherwise he would have lost his appetite.

As if it was a great effort to her, Tatiana said, “Look, me and hundreds of others were piled on into trucks and then driven to the train, near Volkhov…”

“Tell him about the train!”

“It wasn’t the best of trains. There were a lot of us…”

“Tell him how many!”

“I don’t know how many,” said Tatiana. “We were…”

“What happened when the people died on the trains?” said Dusia, crossing herself.

“Oh, they just threw them out. To make more room.”

Naira said, sniffling, “There was more room when they got to the Volga River.”

Axinya exclaimed, “Alexander, the railroad bridge across the Volga had been blown up, and the train couldn’t get across. All the evacuees, including our Tanechka, were told they had to cross the ice on foot in their frightful condition. What about that?”

Alexander blinked and blinked again. He didn’t take his eyes off Tatiana’s bemused and slightly wearied face.

“How many people crossed that, Tania? How many people died on the ice? Tell him.”

“I don’t know, Axinya. I wasn’t counting…”

“Nobody,” said Dusia. “I’m sure nobody survived it.”

“Well, Tania survived it,” said Alexander, his elbow pressing into Tatiana’s arm, his leg pressing into hers.

“And other people survived it,” said Tatiana. Lowering her voice, she added, “Not many.”

“Tania, tell him,” Axinya exclaimed, “how many kilometers you had to walk, tubercular, pneumatic, in the snow, in the blizzard, to the next rail station because there weren’t enough trucks to carry all of you sick and starving to the train. Tell him how many.” She widened her eyes. “It was, like, fifteen!”

“No, dear,” Tatiana corrected. “It was maybe three. And there was no blizzard. It was just cold.”

“Did they give you anything to eat?” Axinya demanded. “No!”

“Yes,” said Tatiana. “I had a little food.”

“Tania!” cried Axinya. “Tell him about the train, tell him how there was no place for you to lie down, how you stood for three days from Volkhov to the Volga!”

“I stood for three days,” said Tatiana, stabbing her food with a fork. “From Volkhov to the Volga.”

Wiping her eyes, Dusia said, “After the Volga crossing, so many people died that Tatiana had a shelf on the train to lie down on, right, Tania? She lay down—”

“And never got up again!” stated Axinya.

“Dear,” said Tatiana, “I did eventually get up.” She shook her head.

“No,” said Axinya. “There I’m not exaggerating. You didn’t. The conductor asked where you were going, and he couldn’t wake you to ask you…”

“But finally he woke me.”

“Finally, yes!” cried Axinya. “But he thought you were dead.”

Raisa added, “She got off the train at Molotov and asked how far Lazarevo was, and when she heard it was ten kilometers, she…”

Loud crying from all four ladies.

Tatiana said to Alexander, “Sorry you have to hear all this.”

Alexander stopped eating. He placed his hand on her back, patting her gently. When he saw she didn’t move away and didn’t flinch and didn’t blush, he left his hand on her for another long moment. Then he picked up his fork again.

“Alexander, do you know what she did when she heard Lazarevo was ten kilometers from Molotov?”

“Let me guess,” said Alexander, smiling. “She fainted.”

“Yes! How did
you
know?” asked Axinya, studying him.

“I faint all the time,” said Tatiana. “I’m a big wimp.”

Naira said, “After she came out of isolation, we sat next to her hospital bed, holding her oxygen mask to her face to help her breathe.” Wiping her face, she said, “When her grandmother died—”

The fork dropped from Alexander’s hand. Involuntarily. Mutely he sat and looked into his plate, unable to turn his head even to Tatiana. It was she who turned her head to him, gazing at him with softness and sorrow. “Where is that vodka, Tania?” Alexander said. “Clearly I haven’t had enough.”

She poured it for him and poured a small glass for herself, and then they lifted their glasses, clinking lightly, and stared at each other, faces full of Leningrad, and Fifth Soviet, and her family and his family, and Lake Ladoga, and night. Tatiana whispered, “Courage, Shura.”

He couldn’t reply. He swallowed the vodka instead.

The rest of the people at the table fell quiet until Alexander asked, “How did she die?”

Naira wiped her nose. “Dysentery. Last December.” She leaned forward. “Personally, I think that after she lost Tania’s grandfather, she just didn’t want to go on.” Naira glanced at Tatiana. “I know Tania agrees with me.”

Tatiana nodded. “She wanted to,” she said. “She just couldn’t.”

Naira poured Alexander another drink. “When Anna was dying, she said to me, ‘Naira, I wish you could see all my granddaughters, but you’re probably never going to see our baby Tania. She’ll never make it here. She is so frail.’ ”

“Anna,” said Alexander, downing the vodka, “was not such a good judge of her granddaughters.”

“She said to us,” Naira continued, “ ‘If my granddaughters come, please make sure they’re all right. Keep my house for them—‘ “

“House?” asked Alexander, instantly perking up. “What house?”

“Oh, they had an
izba
—”

“Where is this
izba
?”

“Just in the woods a bit. By the river. Tania can show you. When Tania got better and came to Lazarevo with us, she wanted to live in that house,” Naira said, widening her eyes meaningfully,
“all by herself.”

“What
was
she thinking?” questioned Alexander.