A Place Far Away

by Vahan Zanoyan

  Lara hesitated. Undressing in front of this stranger was not something she wanted to do. Besides, they bathed once every two weeks or so in Saralandj. There were lighter washings, every day for the girls and every few days for the boys, but taking a full bath was a complicated ceremony. They had to boil water in the large pot over the cow-manure burning stove in their “kitchen”. Then they had to mix the hot water in batches with cold water in another, smaller pot until they got the right warmth. They would bathe quickly, sitting on a small wooden stool on the floor, being careful that the water would not run towards their parents’ bed at the other end of the room. After shampooing their hair, they would rinse and dry quickly before they caught a cold, and go straight to bed. You could not be out and about after a bath if you did not want to catch a cold. For the girls, washing their hair was the big issue. It took a very long time to wash and rinse, and even longer to dry. The girls needed twice as long to bathe as the boys, and their bath consumed twice as much cow manure for heating the water as the boys’. But here the water was pouring already hot into the bathtub. There was no sign of any fire anywhere, none of that pleasant smell of burning cow manure, or of the even more pleasant crackling sounds of the fire while one bathed. This bath was almost clinical, unceremonious, and astonishing in how far removed it was from her reality. Suddenly, nothing was familiar.

  “Take your clothes off!” ordered Anoush again. “We do not have all day.”

  “I don’t need a bath,” said Lara, but her voice had already started sounding unsure and hesitant.

  “Go on, girl,” said Anoush. “I am no different from your mother. Do not be shy. You have to bathe now. Take your clothes off.”

  The bathtub was filling quickly, and the rising steam was filling the bathroom. Anoush checked the temperature of the water, was satisfied, and turned back to Lara.

  “C’mon, c’mon, I said we don’t have all day,” she snapped, and this time approached Lara to help her undress.

  Lara was finally undressed and stepped into the bathtub. The hot water actually felt wonderful. She began to relax a little. Anoush poured water on her head with a small bowl, and started shampooing her hair. Lara first tried to do it herself, but eventually gave in. Anoush then soaped her body, asked her to stand up in the tub and soaped her thighs and buttocks with a loofah, often too fast and rough, turning her skin pink. She had no hesitation going over her private parts, as routinely as she would do her shoulders and back.

  But then Anoush stood there watching her as she was drying off. “You are a very attractive young woman,” she said, deliberately looking at her. The tone of her voice changed somewhat. “Have you had any boyfriends?”

  “Of course not,” snapped Lara.

  “Have you ever been naughty?” Anoush persisted with a smirk, staring straight at Lara’s crotch. “You can tell me, you know, as I said I am just like your mother.”

  “Of course not!” Lara repeated, now blushing heavily.

  “Fine, fine,” said Anoush, trying to give a soothing tone to her voice. “Nothing abnormal about any of that stuff, you know.” Then, turning her voice a bit more motherly, added. “But tell me, when was your last period?”

  “Around ten days ago,” said Lara quickly, covering herself with the towel. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Here,” said Anoush. “Put these on. You have no use for your old clothes any longer.” She handed her underwear, a pair of pants and a blouse.

  Wanting this whole experience to be over, Lara quickly got dressed without objecting. Anoush handed her a comb. “Comb your hair,” she ordered. “Your supper will be ready soon. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

  Finally alone, Lara took a long look in the mirror. How could things be so different only an hour away from home? In the past few hours she had seen so many things that she had never seen before in her life. She now was in a world so far away, so different from where she was only a few hours ago, that it was difficult to feel any connection, any continuity between where she came from and where she was now. It suddenly struck her that perhaps the hint of fear that she was feeling had nothing to do with the awe of the extravagance surrounding her, but was coming from a sense of not knowing her way around this place. The foreignness itself was troubling and scary. Until this moment, Lara had had almost full knowledge of her surroundings; her house, garden, every sheep and every plant in their garden, every utensil in their kitchen. And now, she knew nothing. How did I get here? she wondered. Is this what her mother had meant when she had said, ‘Remember where you’re from’?

  Supper was superb. Roasted chicken, grilled potatoes, salads. Lara had never eaten like this at home, even during celebrations, like at her cousin’s wedding. Anoush was still somewhat stern during supper, but in a strange way Lara started to like her. She was now the stern mother figure, rather than the stern stranger ordering her around. She sat with her and watched while she ate, tending to her, offering to help with the fork and knife. She acted concerned for Lara’s well being. She even asked her about her family, her sisters and brothers, but did not dwell much on her parents. Lara found herself opening up to her, telling stories about her village and the adventures she had there with her brothers.

  Back in her room, bathed and fed, Lara was feeling hopeful and excited, even though the anxiety of unfamiliar surroundings lingered. She lay on her bed in her new clothes, and her mind kept jumping back and forth between Saralandj and the present. Suddenly she felt a sharp sting of guilt about the meal she had just enjoyed; she was so taken by her new surroundings that she had not thought of her family. She took out Araxi Dadik’s wedding ring, held it and rubbed her thumb around it slowly. She was deeply moved by what her mother had said about her father wanting her to have it and about her being his strongest link to his past. Now the ring had become her strongest link to her past, to her lost father and to the legendary Araxi Dadik. It was one thing to hear stories about someone she had never seen, and another altogether to hold in her hands something very personal that belonged to her.

  Then Anoush appeared at her door with a phone. “Your mother is on the line,” she said with a smile.

  “Mama, Mama jan,” screamed Lara. “Barev. This place is incredible! How is everything at home?”

  “All is well, my girl,” came her mother’s somber voice. “Are you okay? Is everything fine with you?”

  “Mama, yes! Please do not worry. All is well here. I think everything will work out fine, for all of us. Mama jan, please do not worry about me. I am serious. Did you have enough to eat this evening?”

  Her mother was surprised by the last question, but she ignored it. “Okay, child,” she said to Lara’s pleas asking her not to worry, but there was a nagging doubt in her voice. What would a sixteen-year-old know, especially so soon after leaving home? “Remember everything that I told you, Lara. Don’t ever forget what I told you last night.”

  “No, Mama jan, I’ll never forget. I thought about your words many times today. You are very wise, Mama jan. Very wise. I love you.”

  “Lara, listen, whatever happens, always keep your head together, no matter what. You will feel confused sometimes, and you will be overwhelmed with new experiences, but never lose your head, child. Remember what I am telling you, never, ever, lose your head…that’s all you have!” At least that is all that will ever be on your side, she thought, but did not say out loud.

  “Yes, Mama jan, yes. I promise, I won’t lose my head. I also promise to remember where I came from and who I am!”

  That last sentence brought tears to her mother’s eyes. Her little girl remembered. She has been listening. She is not only beautiful, but also smart. Oh, Lara, she thought, would you have been better off if you did not have the looks of your Araxi Dadik, who was miserable her whole life? Are good looks a curse in our family? I hope not, Lara my child, I really hope not…

  Lara’s mother wiped the tears flowing down her cheek, and Lara could hear the anguish in her voice.

  “Please
don’t cry, Mama, please don’t cry…” she pleaded. “All will be well, I promise.”

  Anoush had been listening outside the bedroom door. That should put the mother’s mind at ease for a while, she thought. They could not have her asking questions about her daughter’s whereabouts, or go talking to the police. They would not have Lara call for a while, at least until she was wise enough not to tell her mother what was really going on. Anoush walked back into Lara’s room and said it was time to end the call. “You have to go to bed now,” she said. “You have to travel tomorrow. Viktor will be here in the morning to take you to the airport. Now put on the nightgown I gave you and go to bed. I’ll come and wake you up in the morning. Good night.”

  The connection with home ended as abruptly as it had started. She changed into the white cotton nightgown that Anoush had given her and went to bed. She was happy. Happy that she had a chance to tell her mother that all was fine, that she was okay. She felt entranced with her surroundings and settled even with Anoush. She would have to learn to trust her. That was her world now. Paron Ayvazian, Anoush and Viktor, whom she remembered from the brief encounter as he was leaving their house in Saralandj. This was her new world. Don’t worry, Mama jan, she thought while she lay in bed staring at the ceiling, still rubbing the ring. I’ll be fine. And I’ll never forget…

  Anoush’s report to Ayvazian was short and to the point. “She is clueless,” she said, “and be careful, she could be fertile.” That was all—the ultimate executive summary.

  Lara was still lying in bed and staring at the ceiling when Ayvazian barged in. She saw him standing up for the first time. He was a big man, with a huge belly protruding from his torso almost as if it did not belong there. Before she could even figure out what was happening, he had shut the door behind him and was on her bed. The stench of cigarettes on his breath was overpowering. He grabbed her hair, brought her face to his, and kissed her roughly on the mouth. Then his hands were all over her, on her breasts, and down her buttocks to her crotch. Lara was almost paralyzed by shock. When she recovered her senses a bit she fought him with all her might, but could not fend off the overwhelming physical power of her attacker. The first time she tried to scream brought such a vicious slap on her face that she thought she was going to faint. She forgot about screaming. Ayvazian pushed her hands behind her head, and ordered her to keep them there.

  “Do not move your hands!” he ordered. Then he yanked the nightgown up to her neck and attacked her breasts. “Do not move!” Lara froze. Off came her panties, and Ayvazian leaned back for a moment to savor the moment. Lara’s hands were sliding down to cover her sex, but he roared again, “I said don’t move!” and his powerful hands again forced her hands to the back of her head. “Do not move or I’ll tie you up!” he barked again as he ran his fingers down her thighs, then back up to her crotch, feeling her.

  He then left the bed to undress. He took his time, not letting his eyes off Lara for a moment, who lay there shaking, her eyes shut tight, her hands firmly placed under the back of her head and grabbing a lock of her hair for dear life, her right leg thrown over the left in a desperate attempt to hide her nudity.

  He took off his pants and underwear and approached her slowly. Her fear, her tightly closed eyes and trembling body aroused him. “Today is the first day of the rest of your life,” he said jerking her legs apart, as if these were the most original words of wisdom he could impart to the young girl. “And I will show you what the rest of your life will be like!” He then penetrated her with such force that Lara thought this was it—this was how the end would come. The pain was like nothing she had ever experienced in her life.

  Anoush walked into her room around ten minutes after Ayvazian had left. Lara was bundled up under the sheets, sobbing. She pulled the sheets away, but Lara did not move. The sheets were bloody and there was blood smeared on the inside of her thighs. Anoush tried to comfort her; they could not have her so traumatized that she totally withdrew into herself.

  “Sooner or later you had to go through that,” she said. “That is how men are. The pain will pass. And soon you’ll even learn to enjoy all that, I promise you,” Anoush said.

  But Lara would not speak. She had stopped crying. Her face was so blank and expressionless that it gave Anoush a chill. This was not the first time Anoush had to clean up after Ayvazian, but she had not seen this reaction before. The girls usually wanted a shoulder to cry on. They clung to her, seeking a measure of comfort, an explanation. But Lara had withdrawn into herself and would not come out.

  “C’mon, child,” said Anoush finally. “We have to get you cleaned up. You cannot sleep like this. I’ll let you bathe alone this time while I change these sheets. You still have to rest, and you still have to travel to Moscow in the morning. Nothing has changed.”

  All Lara felt was an overwhelming desire to be back home in Saralandj; to leave all of this here and go back to her village. What had happened here was so foreign to her that it didn’t fit anywhere in her conscious world. This was an entirely unrelated digression, an entirely uncalled for departure from her life, and therefore not part of it yet; it was as if the actors in a play had made a major error mixing up different scripts, and she just had to return to her own original play. Yet, she found herself going through the motions as instructed, but first fetched the ring from within the crumpled sheets before allowing herself to be led to the bathroom. The ice-cold expression stayed. The silence continued. But she did what she was told. This time, it was extremely painful to sit in the bathtub. It felt like her insides were on fire. But she washed, dried, and put on a new set of pajamas provided by Anoush. She then went to bed.

  The next morning Viktor came with two bodyguards, and they drove to the airport. Anoush gave one of the bodyguards Lara’s suitcase. Lara had combed her hair back and tied it into a ponytail. She was visibly in pain while she walked, but her face was like a rock, and she did not speak.

  IV

  The apartment in Moscow was much smaller than the mansion in Yerevan. It had three small bedrooms, a small living room, a kitchen, and two full baths. The furniture was far more modest and unpretentious also—old dirty sofas and chairs in the living room with worn out armrests and dirty and faded brown wall to wall carpets, darker around the edges by the walls than in the middle section, which looked like it had been walked on for decades.

  They put Lara in one of the bedrooms. This place had a housekeeper also, about Anoush’s age, with the same no-nonsense temperament. She took charge of Lara and showed her around. Under no circumstances was Lara to leave the apartment without one of the men. She was not to open any windows or curtains. She could eat whenever she was hungry, but had to clean up the kitchen. If she needed anything she was to tell Nono, the housekeeper. She was not to touch the telephone, even if it rang.

  Having finished the instructions, Nono left Lara alone. She sat on her bed, her chin resting on her folded knees, still stunned by what had happened the night before. Was it really all because of her looks? Did all the girls who were considered good looking have to go through such pain? There was a small round mirror on the wall, with an ornate but cheap plastic yellow frame. She left the bed and stood in front of the mirror for a long time, staring at her face. She could not find the answer there, the answer to why this was happening to her, the answer to what Ayvazian had done, to her being here, to her captivity.

  That night she ate for the first time in twenty-four hours. She had refused breakfast and lunch, but when the apartment was empty for about an hour that evening, she went into the kitchen and had a piece of bread with some cheese and slices of sausage.

  It was around midnight when Viktor walked into her room.

  “I will not beat around the bush,” he said. “We need you to grow up and grow up real fast. This is what you will do for the rest of your life. You will please men sexually. That is all. You do not have to like it or enjoy it, but you will do it and you will do it as if you like it. You will make the men feel welcome
. You will pretend to enjoy it. You will not act miserable while pleasing a man. Do you understand?”

  Lara stared at him for a moment, but kept quiet. She had been lying on top of the bed covers in her clothes when Viktor walked in, but was now sitting up at the edge of the bed, with Viktor standing very close to her. It was awkward for Lara; she did not want to look up at his face, but when she lowered her eyes her face was two inches from his waist, which she did not want either. She tried to move away from him and stand up, but Viktor put his hands on her shoulders and pinned her down.

  “Fine,” he said. “If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to. But you will open your mouth when I tell you to. Tonight you will learn about the finer pleasures of oral sex.”

  Viktor appeared to Lara as a surreal being, with no connection to the reality of that moment. Her defenses had somehow isolated the voice from the man. She did not see his lips move as he spoke; his voice seemed to be coming from his face, as if from a radio. Then the source of the voice moved toward her, and grabbed her hair, and she turned everything off.

  Lara endured the most horrifying indignities that night. She was forced into oral sex and raped twice, once by Viktor and once by one of the bodyguards. When they finally were done with her, Nono took charge of her to make sure that she did not do anything desperate. A bath, some water, and to bed.

  But Lara’s attitude had started to worry Viktor. She had not resisted, but had remained totally and absolutely passive. The only reaction that appeared on her face while they were abusing her was caused by the sharp pain in her sore genitals. Otherwise, she let them do everything they wanted with a totally blank expression. This would not go well in the trade. She could not act the role by remaining passive. She had to learn to play the role of seductress. She had to learn to enjoy being naughty—that was a huge turn-on for men. But Lara seemed like she had no notion of how to be naughty, let alone act as if she enjoyed it. There was no way for them to force that on her. She had to buy into it on her own. They decided to leave her alone for a day. Nono would monitor her carefully.