Sasha was with his friends from the Institute. One of his friends introduced me to Lee, calling him Alik . . . and when Lee invited me to dance, and we started to talk, I decided he was from one of the Baltic countries, since he talked with an accent. But later that same evening I found out that Lee was an American . . .
I liked Lee immediately. He was very polite and attentive, and I felt that he liked me too . . . Later, when we were married, Lee told me that he noticed me as soon as I came into the dance hall. Don’t think that I have an especially high opinion of myself or am anything unusual, but I can say that . . . I had just come in from the cold [and] by then [other] girls were already tired, whereas I had just taken off my overcoat—so that I had a fresh look . . . I remember having on my favorite dress made of red Chinese brocade (Lee liked this dress afterwards), and my hair was done à la Brigitte Bardot. That evening I even liked myself. You see how I am boasting, but I am writing what I felt . . .
Later . . . we all went in a group to the house of the Yuri whose mother had been in the United States . . . I remember that she quarreled a little with Alik, since Alik . . . spoke very favorably about his country and very interestingly. I was very pleased that he was trying to show the best side of his country. Later, when I asked him if he liked America, he said that he liked it, but not everything in it; for instance, unemployment, discrimination, the fact that it is very difficult and expensive to get educated, the high cost of doctors when one is ill. But he said very proudly that in America the apartments are prettier and not so crowded, and that the stores have things for every taste provided one has money. He also said that in America there is more democracy and that every person can say what he wants in the press, on the radio, or on TV . . .
That evening Sasha and Alik took me home. We were alone in the street for a few moments, when Lee asked when and where he could see me. I told him that perhaps I would come again to the dances at the place where we met but did not make any precise promise. But then, a week later, I went again with a friend to a dance—Lee was there. That evening he came home with me, and I introduced him to my Aunt. My Aunt liked his modesty and politeness, also the fact that he was very neat. She told me with a laugh that only an American was lacking in my collection.3
In those months before she met Alik and was having several romances at once, she had been scared. Still, she was able to feel power over men. Of course, it was easy to fall in love, and she was looking for love. In love with love. When you’re eighteen, hormones do your thinking. You are a proud young deer, and you meet and fall in love with different people because you are looking. One attracts you because he knows how to open the door, a gallant. Another, because he loves you dearly. She wanted a man to be romantic and a good provider, to be excellent, nice, and love her. But then there was always Anatoly. He made her head spin. With just one kiss. What you learn is that nobody is there to give you everything you need.
She didn’t want to talk about her experiences. Catherine the Great had lots of lovers and was considered okay; that did not mean Marina had lots—she was not saying that. She just didn’t want to talk about sex. Everybody was looking for bad; then they trash you. It wasn’t that she’d done something she was ashamed of, nothing horribly wrong, but she knew when she first came to Minsk that maybe she needed advice. Because she was not that experienced. Maybe men thought she was something that she was not.
She talked to her friend Misha Smolsky, who had never laid a finger on her. They were friendly, just friends. He said, “Come on, I won’t touch you. You’re not Anita Ekberg.” That said it all. He told her: “Marina, there’s a guy spreading gossip around that you’re sleeping with him. Is it true or not?” She told him, “Misha, I’m asking you what can I do if I have nothing to hide? I cannot defend myself door to door if a guy is lying.”
So Misha said, “I cannot punch him in the nose, because it is not my business”—meaning she was not his girl—“but I’m going to tell him it is baloney.”
She did not know why Merezhinsky—if that was the guy, Yuri Merezhinsky—talked about her that way. Maybe it was because he was always drunk and liked to make a fuss. Maybe it was rejection. Was this the person that Misha was talking about? She felt humiliated in front of all the world.
Now her reputation felt like ugly clothing, smelly, that she was condemned to wear. Lee Harvey Oswald, for example. This Alik had tried to be intimate with her when she saw him again at the Trade Union Palace eight days later, Saturday night. That night she took him back alone to meet Valya, since Ilya was away.
He had wanted her to make a bed so he could sleep over. He pretended it was too late for buses, so maybe he could sleep somewhere there? He must have assumed she was a floozy. She sent him home. He could walk home, she told him. But she was not really angry. After all, on that first night, when she was wearing her red dress, she insisted on everybody going over to a bar to have champagne. Maybe Lee assumed she was a type who has to drink, but her only concern was to see Anatoly and prove to him that he was going to talk to her whether she came with Sasha or not. Anatoly, however, ignored her, just as he had told her he would. So her group went back to the Trade Union Palace, and she spent that Friday night dancing with Lee. He was a teaser, kind of. “In America,” he would say, “they dance this way,” and would bring her closer to him. Then, he would dip. She could see it was his way to get closer. But not by grabbing, no, little by little.
All that while, she was thinking, “How am I going to prove to Anatoly that he can’t just brush me away like I am nothing?” Moreover, she was feeling pity for Sasha. He was the victim of her strategy. So, when Anatoly acted like he’d never seen her in his life, it kind of freed her of an obsession with him, for this night, anyway.
She began to flirt with everybody, including Lee. He must have thought she was some floozy! Which may be why he expected so much more than he got eight days later, when she took him home to meet Valya. He even said, “You have so many fellows, I thought you were some kind of . . . you know . . .” And then, she’d been wearing her red dress. Maybe she stood out.
Now, looking all that long way back, she would say that Lee had intrigued her. He looked deeper into life. If he had been a dumb Vanya, just another dumb worker, she would never have gone on a date with him. She would say she respects factory workers very much—“but you are not going to date Vanya. Because what are you going to talk about with such men? They pinch girls openly—nothing but vulgarity. So, you stay away. No factory workers, thank you. You try to associate with a class ahead of yourself. Even if you come from the middle of nowhere.” It wasn’t her desire to go backward. Lee did work in a factory, but he also looked deeper into life. It certainly wasn’t just his interest in politics. Her grandmother had told her about politics: Do not touch—then you won’t stink. All the same, once you grow up, even if you don’t want to belong to political groups, you do become interested in how things happen, and Lee was part of a group of her friends who were interested in how this world was working.
After the night when she made him walk home, he made a date for one week later. But a few days later, Aunt Valya said, “Guess what? Your American called.” He could not make it. He was sick, and stuck in some hospital way out at one end of Minsk. Marina was not too concerned. Even when he rang to tell Valya that he was ill, she had been out with Anatoly. She liked Lee, but she certainly didn’t consider him a serious date. He was something maybe for one free evening.
Now, his ear was infected badly enough for him to be in a hospital. He had had infected ears from childhood, he told her later, and a mastoid operation when a boy.
Valya said, “Why don’t you visit him? He has nobody here from home and this is Russian Easter.” Valya said, “I know for a fact that over in America they celebrate Easter. It’ll be nice and touching.” Valya put some cakes together on a plate and said to Marina, “Show him that Russians have some heart.”
But when she finally got to this hospital—such a long trip by stree
tcar—he was glad to see her. He hadn’t expected a visit. What a low opinion he must have had of her! But he was so happy she had brought him canned apricots. He told her it was his favorite dessert. Intuition must have let her know.
It was sad, however. He did look ill and his smile was pale. Physically, she couldn’t say she liked him now. A little later that visit, he kissed her (after asking permission), and she didn’t take to this first kiss, either. There was negative feeling. Like a warning to stop. Stop right there. She asked herself: “Do I want this to continue?” She had never thought of it before, but that first kiss could tell you a lot. Did she really want to know him more? Maybe no. Yet, her mind remained curious. And he was so gentle. She remembers that his kiss wasn’t just a peck, thank you for coming—no, it showed expectations. But he didn’t smell like a Russian. He didn’t even smell like he was in the hospital. His skin had some funny odor. There could be a lot of scents on top, but underneath was some basic scent. Kissing him gave her that negative response. He did not smell like fresh air and sunshine.
Later, she would come to accept this scent of his body. Still there, but she accepted it. If you love a man, you accept.
It was funny. After work, every day she would go to visit him. She could get in when no one else could. Visiting days were Sundays only, but she was wearing her white uniform from the pharmacy at Third Clinical, so, no problem.
She did not love him yet, but she certainly felt sorry for him. He was so alone. She could understand that. Loneliness is an everyday companion to a lot of people, but it is certainly not your good companion. And Valya was so sorry for him.
While he was still in the hospital, he told Marina that he wanted to be engaged to her and she should not see anyone else. “I promised, but I did not take this seriously.” She did not love Lee—not yet; she just felt sorry for him. Still, he was an American. You weren’t going to say no if an American said you should be engaged; not right away, in any case.
On the day he got out of Fourth Clinical Hospital, Valya had him over for dinner with Ilya.
She liked how Alik could handle himself with her uncle. Very dignified. He told Ilya he had come to live forever in Russia. He intended to work hard. Ilya said, well, if that was so, then he, Ilya, would be ready to help him organize his life. And Marina could see that Valya was thinking, yes, they could have a little guidance over him, because Alik didn’t have anyone in Minsk, and they would treat him well.
He charmed Valya. He was very tender. He kissed Valya on her good cheek after dinner and said, “Thank you, this meal was great.” Well, it was, but he also said it nicely.
After dinner, Ilya said: “Take care of this girl. She has plenty of breezes in her brain.” Wasn’t that awful? She was a serious person. She would have liked to have breezes in her brain—she certainly wanted to have fun—but she was always feeling responsible, or examining her conscience. She could never say, “Just wash it off!”—she never did. Maybe, from Ilya’s point of view, it was because she liked one guy this week, another guy the following week; but Marina would have told him, “I’m still looking. I meet somebody, and he’s an idiot. He takes me out to dinner and wants me to pay for it. Or, he’s always clearing his throat because he’s an opera singer. All evening long, that’s what my opera singer did.” Yes, she had known one; she had gone on a date with him. “He had a nice cashmere coat and scarf.” When they went to a restaurant that he chose, she thought, “Well, maybe he’ll show some culture here,” but he ate his dinner and said, “I forgot my wallet.” Then he said, “Pay for it. I’ll give you some tickets for my opera.” When she got to that, he turned out to be Soldier 29, back somewhere in the chorus—a real Enrico Caruso! Of course, she had to drop him.
No, she did not want to talk about her courtship with Alik. It was not that remarkable. All courtships are the same: Put your best foot forward. The trouble with courtship is that you never know the other person until you get married and live the first twenty-four hours with him.
Still, she was ready to talk to others about this courtship with Alik. And her girlfriends, especially Larissa, encouraged Marina. As Larissa saw it, this American boyfriend would distinguish Marina from other girls. Besides, he had an apartment. When Alik invited Marina to visit his place on the night after his dinner at Ilya and Valya’s, Marina came with Sasha, Yuri, and Larissa. Safety in numbers. But Larissa talked about him positively afterward. He had such good manners.
2
A Little Bit of Conquering
Sasha recalls that night at Alik’s place. The American lived in a grand building, but his apartment did not look cozy. It was what they call kazyono, that is, bureaucratic, lacking in home atmosphere.
Alik spoke good Russian. An accent, and his pronunciation was off, but he could speak. He put on Tchaikovsky’s First Symphony, and as they listened, Alik told his life story. He’d been in his armed forces, served in Asia, didn’t like war, didn’t wish to be a part of war. So, he had decided to come to the Soviet Union for residence, and Moscow had sent him to Minsk. Now he worked at Horizon radio factory, “as an engineer.” They had a bottle of Russian champagne. Sasha liked him—thought he was cool, very balanced, no unneeded emotion. Oswald didn’t smoke, but enjoyed others inhaling their cigarettes—or so it seemed to Sasha. However, his apartment did look poor. “Iron dirt,” as they called it. And his table was neobtyosoniy, not polished properly. His chairs were ordinary, and his bookcase was put together out of a few boards.
He had many records, however, long-playing records, all classics. Maybe they spent an hour and a half there. It must have been ten o’clock when they left. And Sasha said to Marina, “Let me see you off because tomorrow morning early, I have to go to my job and you, too, have to wake up early.”
At this point, Sasha indicated that he wanted the interviewers to turn off the tape. He then told this story: When he arrived at his home, there was a car waiting outside which took him to the offices of KGB, where they played for him a recording of what he and others had been saying at Lee’s party. They did not explain why they were doing this, nor did they go into other details. They told him merely that they wanted him to report in whenever they asked him.
All this took place in a basement room of the KGB building, on Lenin Street, and he had been brought there in a car. He was allowed to walk home, a good few kilometers. When he arrived, his mother scolded him for hanging out with his kind of friends, too upper-class, too well established, members of the intelligentsia— Yuri, particularly, and Kostya Bondarin. She told him, “Look, you come from simple peasant folk. You shouldn’t be around people like that. You’re going to get into trouble.”
To his interviewers, he now said that after he stopped seeing Marina because she was going with Lee, he also stopped seeing Yuri and Kostya Bondarin, who, he assumes, were also called in. It was as if none of them wished to see the others in order not to have to report on one another. You could say that they shared a new language in which there was no need to have a conversation.
Neither Igor nor Stepan would admit to more than some early concern about Lee and Marina. When that romance developed quickly into marriage, it could be said, Igor admitted, that they did lose some sleep, and felt somewhat at fault that no steps had been taken to keep this courtship of Oswald and Marina Prusakova from flourishing.
When asked what such steps might have entailed, Igor’s response was deliberative, even delicate. There were girls, he suggested, some of them attractive, certainly, certainly, who at one stage or another could be called upon by the Organs. Perhaps one of them might have diverted Oswald. They also could have attracted Marina perhaps to some other person, some very attractive man qualified for such activity. They didn’t do that, however. It was a large move, after all. So that gave Lee and Marina a possibility to begin. Then came a wedding, with almost no warning. More problems to deal with. Would there now be any leak of information to Oswald through Marina? That was a possibility which could happen by way of her uncle, Lie
utenant-Colonel Prusakov of MVD. To ensure themselves against such an outcome, they were obliged somewhat later to make personal contact with Ilya Prusakov.
That period, therefore, offered considerable stress, and it was a fact—Stepan didn’t always sleep too well. Nor Igor.
Close to three years later, Marina wrote her account of these early days with Lee:
Lee had a lot of classical records, and he loved to listen to them when we were alone. He did not like noisy company and rather preferred to be alone with me. I remember one of these evenings when we drank tea with pastry and kisses. Then (please excuse my vulgarity, due to youth) this tea was very tasty. I never again drank such tea or ate such pastry—ha ha! Lee told me that he wanted us to get married and stay here forever. He had a small darling apartment . . . with a separate entrance—quite enough for two, especially if they were young. I told him that I would become his wife (since I had already fallen in love with him) but that we should wait several months because it was a little embarrassing in front of our friends to get married so quickly. But Lee agreed to wait only until the first of May [and] planted some flowers on the balcony in honor of my agreeing to marry him.1
March 18–31
We walk. I talk a little about myself. She talks a lot about herself. Her name is Marina N. Prusakova.
Oswald's Tale Page 20
