White Shanghai

by Elvira Baryakina

  Binbin had once told Nina how horrible it was to be a child who did not know a mother’s love.

  “When did you understand she was ashamed of you?” Nina asked her.

  “I always knew.”

  Kitty won’t be unloved, Nina decided firmly. She’ll never suffer because of her race. I’ll think some way to get a citizenship for her.

  2.

  The evening before Easter, Nina was busy running around the house setting tables and making Easter cakes. Klim watched her gloomily. She showed him the papers, wanting to tell him her decision to never leave Kitty whatever happened.

  But Klim didn’t let her say a word. “Well, have a happy journey. Don’t worry about Kitty and me.”

  He didn’t even ask, “What are you going to do?” He had no doubt Nina would pack up and go to America.

  Easter. Forgiveness. Joy. And they were trembling with mutual hatred.

  Mistrust.

  Misunderstanding.

  Misbelieving.

  Nina glanced at Klim who sat in an armchair, tossing and catching a perfume bottle from her vanity.

  “Put it down, you’ll break it.”

  Klim stood up and shoved the bottle at her. He wanted to go out, but she stopped him. “I’ll have important guests today. Please, be polite. It’s not necessary that other people know what’s going on here.”

  “As you wish, my dear.”

  Nina was on the brink of tears. She wanted to scream at him and kick him out. The words were ready: “It was you who came back to me! You wanted to start all over and now you only try to hurt me! Why the hell do you still live with me?”

  Valentina came into the room with a half-asleep Kitty. The little girl squinted her eyes under the electric lights.

  “Come to me,” Klim called, his voice was different now, calm and tender. But Kitty stretched to Nina. “I want Mommy!”

  Nina looked at Klim, smiling derisively as she took Kitty in her arms. Sorry, but I’m not giving her to you. A child always needs her mother more— especially a girl.

  They drove through the sleeping city. Everywhere was dark and quiet. Kitty pressed her cheek to Nina’s chest, the night lamps reflecting in her shining eyes.

  “When we were children, we always worried that we’d oversleep and miss the Easter service in our church,” Valentina said. “We would wake up at night, the house was freezing: the padded winter window frames were already removed.”

  Listening to the nanny’s jabber, Nina looked at her wristwatch, hoping to get to the church on time. Klim silently studied the view out the window.

  The chauffer stopped at the corner of Baoshan Road. Streams of people were flowing into the Russian church. Cars circled around searching for a place to park.

  “Let me carry Kitty,” Klim said as they left the car.

  Nina wanted to refuse, but she was too tired to even carry her daughter.

  “So many of our people, so many!” Valentina kept repeating in disbelief.

  They never managed to get inside: the church porch and yard were packed too tightly.

  The night was hot and windless. Little candles in colorful bowls were set along the roof eaves. Sparks flashed on the bell tower where the bell- ringers waited for a signal.

  In the crowd, people started to read the Acts of the Apostles. By accident, someone bumped Nina and she momentarily pressed into Klim’s shoulder. He moved away, as if he didn’t know her.

  A convulsion ran through her body. She wanted to crumple herself like an empty candy wrap or an unlucky lottery ticket.

  Icons and church banners appeared from the church doors; the priests came out wearing ceremonial garments.

  Bells rang, their voices resonating through the sleeping city. With the second ringing suddenly the whole choir of big and small bells caught up to the large bells in a beautiful unison. Kitty was startled and stretched her neck, curiously watching all the people around them.

  Nina heard how Kitty whispered to Klim, “Mommy is crying…”

  The sacred procession went around the church. People lit candles from each other and soon the whole street in front of the temple twinkled with hundreds of little flames.

  Nina gave a candle to Kitty, “Here, take it, my sweetheart.”

  Fireworks rocketed up into the sky and burst in deafening roars.

  “Christ has risen!”

  “Risen indeed!”

  Nina was kissing someone, feeling touches on her cheeks, the smells of perfume and tobacco. Faces appeared and disappeared in the dim light. In the distance flashed the shape of a Sikh policeman on a horse— so out of place here.

  “Christ is risen!”

  Nina froze. By accident she’d kissed Ada. The girl, all primed-up and shiny, was looking at her with wide eyes.

  “Risen indeed…”

  Klim started to talk to Ada about something. Then he said, “Come to our place to break the fast.”

  3.

  Ada sat at the Easter table in Nina Kupina’s house. Crowds of people were everywhere, a lot of military men or rather security men dressed like military. The pockets of their peg-top breeches were noticeably stretched. Guns? Ada guessed.

  Felix was on duty, Mitya—God knows where, so she went to the Easter service on her own. When Klim invited her to break the fast, Ada didn’t know whether to agree or not. Should she go to the house of a woman who had robbed her? But on the other hand, Klim had returned all the money for Seraphim’s treatment out of his own pocket: he could afford it now working at the radio station.

  But what Ada really wanted was to see how Nina Kupina lived.

  In Nina’s car, she was seated next to the nanny. Everyone was silent and Ada exhausted herself with thoughts that they weren’t speaking because of her. It was only when they reached the gates that she heard Nina telling Klim, “I’ve got the American passports.”

  So, she does deal in passports! Ada thought in excitement.

  Klim brought her inside and promptly disappeared. Long tables groaned with the Easter feast. A neat little granny wearing huge earrings and pearls in a double row sat next to Ada. She kept telling her something about Maria Magdalena and a Roman senator. Ada nodded, not understanding a word.

  A priest gave a short prayer service. Everyone was singing, exchanging eggs and triple kisses.

  Ada pulled out her pince-nez and quickly glanced at the mistress. She was beautiful and stern. Ada would die from fear if Nina caught her gaze.

  It was hard to believe a Russian house could be this chic, and harder to believe that Klim had it all for nothing. What did Nina see in him?

  Betty had told her that sometimes a woman would fall madly in love with a man only because he was a good lover. Once, Betty had an enormous crush on an Arab guy with a silver earring in his ear. A penniless free-loader who, in hot blood, would pummel her and then, as he calmed down, would love her up a bit. This was all it took to keep her trapped in passion for him.

  Klim had wide shoulders and a sly smile, like the joker in a pack of cards. Is that what Nina loved him for? If she didn’t love him, she would have got rid of him long ago. But they’re still together after so many years.

  The sound of an engine came from outside, and the mistress went out to meet more guests. Nina returned pushing a wheel chair with a thin and pale woman in it. They gave her the best seat at the table.

  “You see how brave I am?” the woman said to Nina. “I use my car now.”

  “That’s Tamara Aulman, the wife of the best lawyer in Shanghai who’s also the Consul General of Mexico,” the little granny explained to Ada.

  Wouldn’t it be wonderful to make the acquaintance of this lady? Ada summoned up the courage, hid her pince-nez in her pocket and rolled a colored egg from one palm to the other. When Nina left, she quietly moved close to exchange Easter greetings with Mrs. Aulman. But Klim beat her.

  “Finally, I’ve met you,” Tamara exclaimed and offered him her hand. “Your wife safeguards you more than a company secret.”
<
br />   “More like a clinical record.”

  Klim talked about his radio with Ada nearby, listening. His radio broadcasted two hours a day in English: news, music and an entertainment program. At present, Klim was doing everything himself, but soon he would need a helper. Maybe Tamara could recommend someone?

  He hadn’t even thought of Ada. But that was Klim: often praising her voice, saying it sounded nice but not doing anything about it. Fair enough, he wanted to fawn with this Consul General’s wife. Good strategy, Ada thought. Ask for advice then in no time you’re friends.

  She stood behind their chairs with her little Easter egg and no one cared if she existed. Why had she come? She should have gone home after the service. At least she would have had a good sleep.

  Ada left the dining room in search of an exit. Not finding any, she stumbled through a door. A lady was standing in the dimly lit room. Ada squinted to see who it was.

  Nina Kupina. The glow from a little lamp made her face even more beautiful and eerie.

  “Are you looking for someone?” Nina asked, surprised.

  Ada stopped breathing. They were alone: she would never have a better chance than this.

  “Yes, I am…I’ve long wanted to ask you: can you help me to get an American passport? Actually, two.”

  Nina studied her carefully. “Who for?”

  “For me and my boyfriend. He’s Russian.”

  “Why didn’t he come with you to the service?”

  “He works for the police of the International Settlement. He is on night shift today. His name is Felix Rodionov, maybe you know him?”

  Nina turned out to be not evil at all. She said the simplest way was to buy somebody else’s documents; they cost only fifty dollars. Inside the country, Americans don’t use passports and seamen buy them up from travelers who have returned home and don’t plan going abroad again.

  “But it’s not a good idea to go to the States directly—they’ll catch you,” Nina said. “It’s better to go to Panama first and from there go north to the American border. In Latin America, no one will be checking the authenticity of your documents, so with these bits of paper all doors are opened for you. In Mexico, in any little border town you can open an office, any kind, even buying up chicken brains. They’ll give you a note that you live near the border and you can cross it as many times as you like.”

  These were outrageous adventures beyond Ada’s imagination: Panama, Mexico, faked documents. Nina was talking about it like she crossed the border illegally every single day. But surely she was capable of doing such a thing. Where did she get all these riches from anyway? God-fearing work won’t bring you palaces. She cheats on her workers, has friendships with consul generals’ wives and has a house full of friends who are probably criminals.

  Only when Ada was outside did she realize that she hadn’t asked Nina where to buy other people’s passports.

  4.

  During the Easter service Klim felt blessed: he suddenly remembered that every trouble in the world happens only when you take your precious self too seriously. Who cares if he had a vixen for a wife, but look at her breeding! Even the Chairman of the Municipal Council is in love.

  Klim had invited Ada to Nina’s house to ask her how she was getting on without Daniel Bernard. But the girl disappeared and all his attention was fully on the mysterious Mrs. Aulman.

  Nina hadn’t wanted to introduce Klim to her friend. “Tamara won’t talk to you. You’re not from her circle.”

  Well, well… They talked till dawn about radio broadcasting in Shanghai. Nina jealously tried to peel them away from each other, but failed every time.

  In the end, Tamara invited Klim to have breakfast at her place. “You broke the fast here; now let’s go to our house. I’ll introduce you to my husband and sons.” Nina was furious and only managed to contain herself in time. “I’ll come with you,” she said, even though no one had asked her.

  “I’m upset with you,” Tamara told Nina as she helped her into the car. “You were hiding your husband from me for so long. It’s incredibly egotistical.”

  Nina squeezed a smile.

  On the way, Tamara continued her conversation with Klim. “We all wear armor suits,” she said. “If the amour plating is solid and doesn’t let any light or air in then everything rots and goes moldy underneath it. Though, it’s scary to open it: what if somebody kicks you in the side? But if you don’t take it off, then you have to drag the staggering burden on your shoulders all your life, look through a peep-hole in the visor and think that this is the world and there is nothing else.”

  Klim saw how Nina ironically curved her lips, probably thinking, Is that me who you discuss so delicately?

  It is you, my dear. Your visor is not just closed tight, but riveted shut. You won’t let into your heart anything that is not good enough, anything that doesn’t come with a brand label and doesn’t look like a picture from a snotty British magazine.

  You want to copy, to fit and conform, not make anything of your own. You think that one day you’ll reach a standard somebody else has set, and everything will be different: people will start respecting you. They won’t. And you won’t become happier, because you’re chasing somebody else’s happiness and not your own. With all your might you’re trying to get rid of your husband, because you think it’ll be easier or more dignified to love another man. You refuse Kitty because you can’t boast about her in the company you’ve chosen. You believe that it would all be different with your own daughter. No, my dear, no. In this same way you would only be looking for her worth. And in your book, worth is measured only by the level of fear and envy it creates in others. If they envy you and are full of fear, then life is good.

  That’s why you will never notice how beautiful Kitty’s flying hair is when she twirls her head. Your viewpoint is skewed.

  5.

  Breakfast ended with Klim inviting Tamara to his radio station.

  “You have a great voice and your accent would only worry Mr. Fessenden and his friends,” he said. “But we don’t give a stuff about them. Radio is a very democratic creation.”

  Tamara blushed and shyly looked to Tony. “I’d love to try.”

  He brushed it off, “What’re you talking about! Going somewhere is such a stress for you.”

  But Klim and the children started to beg him.

  “Daddy, please!” Thomas yelled. “It would be so great if I could tell the kids at school that my Mom is on the radio!”

  “As if your buddies have radio receivers,” Tony frowned.

  “Everyone has one, but there’s nothing to hear, only some amateurs babbling.”

  “Ah, do whatever you want, boys!”

  Nina didn’t say a word. On the way home, she was silent, deep in thought. Then in one sharp move she started to wind down the window. Her fingers slipped off the handle and Klim bent across her knees to help her, but she pushed his hand away. “I can do it myself.”

  She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and matches.

  “Don’t smoke,” Klim said. “Your lungs will go black inside.”

  Nina looked him straight in the eye. “My whole insides are pitch- black and you don’t seem too concerned.”

  Her matches wouldn’t light.

  Suddenly a bright smile appeared upon her face. “Just stop here for a second,” Nina ordered to the chauffeur. She turned to Klim. “Daniel is back, you see his car at the entrance?”

  There was a sign on the wall: D. Bernard. Tea Company.

  “I’ll go and say hi,” said Nina. “Wait here for me.”

  It was as if someone had cut a high-voltage cable: one end fell down and charred Klim till his flesh burned. He got out of the car and slowly walked onto the porch. There were numerous advertisements in English and Chinese covering a board near the door. The door’s handle was bronze, long and sleek like a thigh bone. The steps were polished by years of feet treading on them; the corridor smelled of washed floors.

  Through a door with a
plaque engraved, D. Bernard. Tea Company, came the machine-gun roar of typewriters.

  “Look, who’s come to visit!” yelled Pasha and Glasha Zaborovas jumping from their seats towards Klim.

  He stared at them bluntly. “What are you doing here?”

  The girls exchanged glances and started to laugh, “We work here.”

  There it was. Daniel Bernard was connected with the communists.

  Klim looked around the office. Nothing special: paper folders, electric fans and catalogues.

  “Why haven’t we seen you at the meetings lately?” the girls asked. “We’re gathering in a new place after the White Army bastards destroyed the old one. Give us your address and we’ll let you know when the next lecture is.”

  Klim gave them the address of the House of Hope—in the same way young ladies give a false address to an unfavorable suitor. He turned to the sound of heels in the next room, the door flew open and Nina appeared, pale and triumphant.

  “Let’s go,” she said to Klim.

  “Is that all? Talked enough yet?”

  “I told Daniel that he shouldn’t throw airplanes around. His Ada is running away to America with a policeman.”

  CHAPTER 60

  THE GERMAN ARMS DEALER

  1.

  Daniel convinced himself and everyone else that no misfortune could ever ruin him. His outlook on the world reflected through his indulgent smile—a retired judge who had seen it all. And now look at this pseudo-gallant gentleman, drinking whiskey trying to drench the wound in his heart with such a plebeian method. His fingers shook and a vague haze obscured his vision.

  Daniel left the port, counting turns, cursing slow trams and bastard rickshaw boys blocking his way to Ada. His basset hound, Mucha, lay at his feet, yawning, showing his pink, glossy mouth with shiny-white crooked teeth. A festive sky was reflected in the windows.

  But Ada wasn’t at the House of Hope.

  At home, Daniel found more tumult and a disheveled spouse who made him want to run. He did, driving to his office.

  Nina, jealous Nina… How tempting it was to cut the head off a messenger bringing bad news! Why? Why did you do it?