Waking Anastasia (16 page)

JERRY EVENTUALLY ORDERED
dinner and then ate it with little enthusiasm as he finally clicked on the links he’d emailed himself and read more and more about Ana and her family; the facts and rumours surrounding their lives and deaths. When he’d had enough of both dinner and the sadness of Ana’s story, he put the leftovers in the fridge, hung the sweatshirt and jeans over the divider screen, and stepped into the shower.

Twenty minutes later, freshly shaved, scrubbed, and dressed, Jerry sat on the couch with the Blake book in his lap. He stroked it gently with his fingertips, as he would Ana’s own hand. After a heartbeat or two it began to glow blue, so he placed it beside him on the couch. Ana appeared, a soft smile on her face.

“Did you eat?”

He smiled back. “Yes, Your Imperial Highness, I ate.”

“And you still wish to visit the China Town?”

“I think that would be the perfect diversion for both of us.”

“Excellent. Then please allow me to get dressed and we can depart. What weather should we expect?”

“It’s stopped snowing, but we’ll take the umbrella because apparently it rains more often than it snows during Christmas here in Victoria.” He noticed Ana looking where she’d last seen the clothes and he pointed at the dressing screen. “Your wardrobe awaits, m’lady.” Ana giggled and walked through the screen, blowing him another kiss over her shoulder just before she was out of sight. She dressed quickly and stepped around the screen for his inspection.

“How do I look, good sir?” She did a little twirl for him, her nearly waist-length hair free-floating around her as though she were under water.

“You’d be beautiful in anything, Ana, but tomorrow we’ll see about getting you some clothes of your own. You usually keep your hair tied up so I hadn’t noticed how long it is. Was it that long . . .
before
?”

“Oh yes. It was only the last year when it was short. We had our heads shaved because we had measles and were losing our hair. Even though it was falling out, we cried softly when they cut our hair and shaved our heads. Such a silly thing—hair grows back, over time. If we had only known what our lives would hold in that next year, we would have seen how trivial our hair really was.” She gathered her tresses and with the quick, deft motions most men never understand, she braided it loosely and tied a knot in the end to contain it. “This is a few inches longer than I ever had it, but since I loved growing it, I assumed if I was twenty-two, it would have grown like this. Do you like it?”

Jerry smiled. “I think it’s perfect. I’ve always been a big fan of long hair, and your deep gold just shines.” He retrieved the coats and the umbrella and helped Ana on with his duffel coat while he shrugged into the red parka. Noticing his camera bag at the foot of the coat tree for the first time in days, Jerry picked it up by the strap and carried it over to the couch. “I have no idea if this’ll work, but I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before . . .” He unzipped the bag, pulled out his digital Canon SLR, popped off the lens cap, switched the camera on, and pointed it at Ana. “Smile.”

She smiled reflexively but had no idea what he was doing until the on-camera flash popped up and went off. “What . . . ? Jerry, is that a
kameru
—a camera?”

“It’s my pride and joy. But I’m not sure if it’ll work with you. I’ve never tried to take pictures of a ghost. Let’s take a look.” He turned so they could both see the three-inch screen on the back of the camera, then he switched the camera over to “view” mode. Ana’s gently smiling face filled the frame.

“Oh my! That’s astonishing! The picture is immediate? Where is the film? That is me! Oh, can I try? Show me, please, Jerry! I miss my camera
ever
so much!”

“You like to take pictures?” He handed her the Canon, and she turned it over in her hands, examining each and every little angle and part.

“I had a Kodak Brownie that was always pointed at someone or something interesting, but it was so long between taking the photograph and seeing the results that I became extremely frustrated. My tutor would have to take the camera and put it out of reach while I was supposed to be doing my studies. Ooo! This is lighter than it looks, but it is much heavier than my little box camera.” She discovered the viewfinder and looked through it at Jerry. She was nearly hopping up and down with the uncontainable joy of discovering her dream toy. “Oh Jerry, please please please teach me! I do not need to know everything at once, I just want to be able to take photographs again. I am certain that film is
dorogoy
—expensive—so I will be economical with my efforts.”

“It’s digital, so there’s no need for film. That’s a fresh sixteen-gig card in there so you’ve probably got two-thousand high-rez shots available before we need a new card.”

“Two
thousand
?” She turned the camera over in her hands, trying to grasp the concept.

“Two thousand. I can explain the digital world later, but in the meantime, shoot to your heart’s content. You know where to look through, so here . . .” he touched the shutter button “. . . is the shutter release, and . . .” he turned the wide zoom ring on the lens “. . . this is how you zoom it in and out.” He turned the dial on top so that the green square matched up with the shooting mode indicator. “You turn it on
here
, and I’ve just put it on PhD mode so you’re good to go.”

“PhD?”

“It stands for ‘Push Here, Dummy’. Just point, hold steady, and shoot. Press the shutter release down halfway, and the camera will focus and calculate all the settings for you. Press it the rest of the way to capture the image. There’s only one condition, though.”

Ana lowered the camera and looked quite serious. “Of course, Jerry. Whatever conditions you apply I will abide by.”

“It’s not too tough—just don’t get carried away with pictures of me. Capture the world around us and every once in a while let me snap one or two of you.”

“That is
two
conditions, Mr. Powell, and not particularly easy ones to abide by . . . but your wish is my command.” She immediately raised the camera to her eye and, giggling, snapped a picture of him.

“The word ‘incorrigible’ comes to mind when I think of you, young lady.”

“Pierre, my tutor, often said the same thing.
Neispravimyy, incorrigible, unverbesserlich
. In Russian, French, or German, he said it was all the same. I am afraid that after almost a hundred years, this leopard is not going to change her
pyatna
—spots. Now . . . Chinatown?”

“Chinatown it is. Do we know where it is?”

“We do. A five-minute walk.”

“Then let’s go get some green tea or something. Maybe I can find a store that sells antelope toes or some-such as a cure for this shadow in my head.”

“That would be perfect, although I would feel sorry for the antelope, having to run from lions without toes.”

“Then maybe a mandrake root, or sage, rosemary, and thyme.”

“Much better.” She snapped a picture of Sushi, spun quickly and took another one of Jerry as he turned from the open door.

“Ana . . .”

“Sorry, but you are so handsome.”

He held the door open for her. “Just step out onto the landing so I can lock up, please, Your Imperial Shvibzikness.”

Ana scooped up the Blake book and dropped it into her coat pocket before dancing past Jerry and out of the loft.

THEY STROLLED ALONG
Broad Street to Pandora Avenue, walking slowly while Ana marvelled at everything through the eye of the camera. Like a six-year-old, she would capture an image, then look at it on the screen and giggle when it appeared before her in seconds. Jerry got a kick out of seeing things new again through her eyes. Between the cool, crisp air, the chow mein in his belly, and Ana’s enthusiasm, Jerry was feeling almost human by the time they turned north on Government Street.

Ana darted in and kissed his cheek then flitted off again down the sidewalk. “Not far now, Jerry. Fisgard Street is that next intersection.” A moment later she was distracted by the Christmas lights on the trees, the blue-capped parking meters, and the Christmas banners hanging off of the red lamp posts, so Jerry was easily able to keep up.

As they neared Fisgard Street, Ana stopped, ran a few yards ahead, and then zipped back to Jerry. “That gold and red arch up there must be the Gates of Harmonious Interest, the entrance to Chinatown.”

“Since none of the other streets have a gate, I’m going to go along with you on that one.” But Ana was gone again, up to the lamp post on the corner against which she propped the camera, and took a picture of the gate flanked by a pair of guardian Chinese lions, with Quonley’s Grocery on one side, and Ocean Garden Restaurant on the other.

The flash went off, and Ana lowered the camera in frustration. “How do I turn off the flash-light and simply use the natural light?”

The Christmas lights all around made the whole scene sparkle, and Jerry knew exactly what Ana wanted to capture with the camera. “Let me show you.” He held his hand out for the camera, and when Ana handed it back to him, he pointed out the flash button on the front. “Push this to pop the flash up.” He pushed it and the little built-in flash snapped up. “Gently push the flash back down until it clicks, to turn it off.” He clicked the flash back down, then turned the shooting mode dial one position. “The camera will now let
you
control when the flash is used, but it will still take care of all of the shutter and aperture settings.”

“Marvellous! Thank you.” She kissed him on the tip of his nose and leaned against the post to try the shot again. The flash didn’t go off this time, and Jerry could see her huge grin as she took two more.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring the tripod.”

“Next time, my Sweet.” She changed her position slightly, snapped three more quick shots, then lowered the camera, took Jerry’s hand, and stepped up to the curb, waiting for the light to change. She looked up at him, worried. “How are you feeling Jerry? I know we have not come far, but I do not want to
utomit vas
—exhaust you.”

“I’m good, thanks. Just waiting for the egg rolls to kick in and give me the MSG-boost I need. It’s sweet of you to ask.”

“Of course. Why would I not?” She squeezed his hand.

“Some people never do.” Like Haley, or his mother, he thought. This was such a nice change. The traffic light went green and Ana led Jerry across the street, to the Gates of Harmonious Interest. She maneuvered him so that he stood with his back to the Gates, facing her.

“Stand right here and smile, or make a silly face, please.”

Jerry leaned back against the Gates spanning Fisgard Street, folded his arms and stuck out his tongue. Ana quickly raised the camera and pressed the shutter button, then she lowered the camera and looked at the image on the screen. She cursed in Russian then switched back to English. “It is too blurry.” She popped the flash up and raised the camera again. “One more time, please.” Jerry obliged and the staccato red-eye-reduction flash strobe blinded him briefly.

“Youch! Okay, your turn, missy.” Ana handed him the camera and traded places with him.

“Serious or silly?”

“One of each.” Ana struck a goofy pose and Jerry snapped the shot, then she lifted her chin a bit, turned her head slightly, and gave him a regal half-smile. Jerry marvelled at her transformation from silly tourist into Grand Duchess, then snapped the picture. “You’re amazing. Such grace.”

“And you are silly, Mister Powell. I am a clumsy lump with no more grace than a sack of cabbages.”

Jerry shook his head. “I beg to differ. You shine in a way that has nothing to do with your present ‘state of being’.” She took the camera back from him, and he was sure she blushed, if that was possible.

“I am just a girl, out with her man.” She skipped through the gate and into Chinatown.

Jerry followed her, as fascinated by her infectious exuberance as by the curiosities on display in the various storefronts. He supposed she had spent most of her short life surrounded by opulence and exquisite craftsmanship, yet here she was giggling and pointing and sharing her joy at seeing little mock-ivory Buddhas, paw-waving golden plastic cats, and pale-green jade pendants of all shapes and sizes. He put his hand on the small of her back as she leaned against a shop window. She was real, she was here with him, and when she laughed, he felt invincible in her presence. There was something about her that wrapped itself around his heart and made him think that if he let himself love her everything would be all right. And that was the thing—he was pretty sure he was falling in love. He smiled. Who was
.

to tell his heart what to do?

“Look at the workmanship on this carving! It is amazing!”

Jerry looked over her shoulder at the tiny mountain village carved out of bamboo and set in a glass and lacquer case no more than eight inches tall and two inches thick. “Wow. What discipline that would take. I wouldn’t have the patience to even make the frame.”

“Oh nonsense, Jerry! Artistry like this does not require discipline so much as it requires
lyubit
—love. You do not do fine work like this without loving what you do. Our family had a magnificent collection of eggs created by master jewellers and they were clearly done by men and women truly in love with their craft.”