~~~~~~~~
Wednesday afternoon — 2:15 p.m.
New York City, New York
Ivan kissed the top of Sissy’s head and got up from the daybed near the window in the living space. Since the trial was over, Charlie, Dale, and Giovanni had started exploring the city in the afternoons, giving Sissy and Ivan some time to themselves. Sissy spent the mornings working on school. After their noon cardio session, she spent most afternoons on this daybed in the sun. Ivan read novels by her side.
“How did you like having Melinda help us this morning?” Ivan asked.
He went to the bookshelf to take down the book he was currently reading.
“She’s really great,” Sissy said. “I liked the way she worked with Charlie. She got him to really move, but not to get injured.”
“She teaches not pushing to injury,” Ivan said with a nod.
“How was it for you?” Sissy asked. “She was your student, but today, she was our teacher.”
“I am no teacher now,” Ivan said. “I’ve been so lucky not to have an injury like this when I was in my prime. I have much to learn about being injured and helping those who are injured. There are so many injured. I believe this will be my next field of exploration.”
Sissy smiled. He’d been very gracious about getting help. She knew that if she ever returned to ballet, she would have to embody this kind of graciousness. It just didn’t come naturally to her. He sat down on the edge of the bed.
“How are you, my darling?” Ivan asked.
“Good,” Sissy said with a smile. “Happy.”
“And with everything?” Ivan asked.
“I’m glad the trial is over,” Sissy said. “He’s in prison for the rest of his life. The guy who financed everything is basically dead. I’m getting better. You’re getting better. We’ll be dancing soon.”
“Do you miss your family? Your home?” Ivan asked.
Sissy sat up to look at him.
“What is all of this?” Sissy asked.
Ivan gave her a soft smile and shrugged. She scowled to encourage him to answer.
“Things for us have moved quickly since the trial ended on Friday,” Ivan said. He lifted a shoulder. “The celebration Friday night and everything; it led to Saturday’s party, our nights together, Sunday’s amazing brunch in the park, and . . . I just wondered if you . . .”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” Sissy said.
“But . . .” Ivan started.
Sissy shook her head and reached out to him. He took her hand. For a moment, they just looked at each other.
“Are you happy?” Sissy asked.
“Very,” Ivan said.
“That’s all you need to know,” Sissy said and leaned back. He opened his mouth to ask again, but she cut him off, “Tell me about your first time.”
He laughed. Setting the book on the daybed, he walked toward the kitchen.
“My first time?” Ivan asked from the kitchen. “I don’t remember much about it, to be truthful. Like you, I was an apprentice at a large company. I was the only heterosexual male in my year and the year or two above and below me.”
He turned on the electric kettle for tea.
“First time, the second time, or even the twentieth time.” Ivan shrugged. “I was twelve or maybe thirteen. It just happened.”
“Charlie’s was like that,” Sissy said.
“Yes,” Ivan said. “Same situation. Lots of girls wanting to explore, almost no boys to fill their needs. It’s good odds.”
Ivan gave her a dashing smile, and Sissy grinned at him.
“Did I ever tell you about my first time playing the Prince in I?” Ivan asked.
“I don’t think so,” Sissy said.
Expecting a good story, she sat up a bit. He was silent as he put together a snack of nuts, cheese, and fruit. He debated whether to have the fresh croissants Giovanni had left for them. He set one on the tray with a knife before responding.
“I was, oh, I don’t know, eighteen, maybe just nineteen?” Ivan shrugged. He took the loose black tea from the cabinet. “The director came to me and asked if I could dance the part. The company director had insisted that they spice up the performance with ‘new blood.’ He had me demonstrate my ability with one of the ballerinas. Like most male roles, it’s not a very challenging part. I performed it easily. He sent the ballerina away.”
Ivan poured hot water from the faucet into the teapot to warm it.
“I had never been alone with the man,” Ivan said. He spooned tea into the teapot’s screen. “I didn’t know if he preyed on boys such as me. It was always a risk, especially in communist Russia. It was a very repressed place. Lots of young men were assaulted in secret. There was no one you could tell. No one to help. I saw this happen to other boys. Heartbreaking.”
Ivan glanced at Sissy to see if she was still listening. She nodded at his attention.
“He says to me, ‘Are you a pidarast?’” Ivan said in a gruff voice. Shifting to his own voice, he explained, “That is a very horrible term for someone who is homosexual. It is a horrible thing to say to any male. I was terrified he would assault me or kick me out and all of my dreams would be gone. I was so nervous I couldn’t answer.
“‘Speak up, boy.’ He bullied me, really. I finally shook my head. He asked if I was sure and I nodded. So he says, ‘I can tell that you are a virgin,’ which, as I said, I was not. ‘The Prince is supposed to be worldly. No matter what the director says, I won’t have some virgin as my Prince.’ I tried to tell him, but he didn’t believe me. He sent me back to my quarters.
“I was very upset. I sat on my little cot for a long time trying to decide what to do. Should I leave? Is he going to assault me so that I fit what he wanted? I didn’t eat or practice. I only worried. This director was powerful, influential. If I got on his bad side, that would be it for me and my career. I had seen him do it to other people. After dinner, he arrived in my room.”
Sissy gasped, and Ivan nodded.
“He said, ‘We have to get you tra-khat,’ which is like ‘fucked’ or sometimes ‘raped,’” Ivan said.
“What did you do?” Sissy asked.
“I tried to protest, but he was insistent,” Ivan said. “I told myself that being the Prince, my first lead part, was worth anything that happened. I had come this far. I would endure whatever sadistic thing he had planned.”
The electric kettle clicked off, indicating the water was ready. Ivan poured out the warm water from the teapot. He set the screen filled with black tea into the teapot and filled the pot. When he looked at Sissy again, he saw that she was suffering from not knowing the end of his story. He came over to kiss her.
“Don’t worry, my love,” Ivan said.
“What did you do?” Sissy asked again.
“What could I do? I went with him,” Ivan said. “We took a limousine to a private club. In communist Russia, a private club could be anything from an expensive restaurant to a sex club. I went in, and he said, ‘Take your pick and get it done.’ We were in a brothel. Ten or so women came to talk with me. I caught the eye of the madam. She pushed the other girls away and took me in the back. I found the entire thing repugnant, but she was . . .”
Ivan shrugged.
“Lovely,” Ivan said with a shrug. “She was near sixty years old, very experienced. She spent all night with me and invited me back. We had a relationship for six months or so. She would send a car for me, and I would spend the night with her. The director, really everyone, was envious. She tired of me after a while, which was just as well for me. You see, she’d told me the truth about my sister, but I didn’t believe her. I thought it was just a lie told by a woman who lied for a living. We never spoke honestly about my feelings; I’m not sure I was capable of such a conversation then. As it was, I was relieved when she was done with me. You know, when I went to the gulag, one of my charges was cavorting with a prostitute. All those years later, her six-month distraction with me still meant something
to some people.”
Ivan shook his head. He carried a tray with their tea and snack onto a small table by the bed. Sissy scooted to the side of the bed to sit up.
“The director was satisfied,” Ivan said with a shrug. “And I danced The Nutcracker and many other ballets after that.”
Sissy grinned at him, and he smiled.
“Bruno told me, one day, out of the blue, that she tried right after I was and put to death,” Ivan said. “Crimes against the state or, more likely, knowing about crimes against the state. They asked her if she had any regrets. She said she regretted not being able to say goodbye to me.”
“Wow,” Sissy said.
Ivan nodded.
“Do you still want to go to Russia this summer?” Sissy asked. “Find your sister’s grave?”
“I haven’t thought about it,” Ivan said. “I remember talking about it in the car that day. That seems like a very long time ago.”
“Maybe we could look up your madam friend’s grave,” Sissy said. “Just to say goodbye.”
Ivan gave her a soft smile.
“Let’s see how well we heal,” Ivan said. “All that is dead is buried. It will wait for us.”
She smiled at him.
“You have the most beautiful smile,” Ivan said. “I could live forever in your smile.”
She leaned forward, and he kissed her.
“Now, rest up, my love,” Ivan said. “We have another workout this evening, and I promise it will not be as much fun as this morning.”
Sissy lay back on the day bed. He sat next to her to read his book and drink his tea. As the day aged, Sissy thought about his story. She’d been so lucky to have him as her teacher. She could have had the same trouble. Smiling, she was sure she’d never been as happy as she was at this moment. She glanced at Ivan only to find that he was looking at her.
Lying on the daybed in the sun, Sissy felt as if she could see her future along a road paved with happiness. She sighed. Thank God, these dark days were over, at least for now.
~~~~~~~~
Wednesday afternoon —4:35 p.m.
Denver, Colorado
Blane pulled up to the Marlowe School and waited for Tink. They used to go into the school to get her, but recently she’d said that she was kind of embarrassed to be picked up inside. Most of the kids Tink’s age drove themselves to school. Since Tink didn’t have a driver’s license — and didn’t want one — they’d agreed to meet her outside if she picked up Mack and Wyn. She agreed to get the younger kids.
As four-thirty became four-forty, Blane wondered if they’d made the right choice to let Tink meet him outside. She’d stayed late at school today to work on a group history project. This was her first school project, so Blane was understandably nervous. How would the kids like her? Would she fit in well? Now that the trial was over, Blane hoped she could settle into being a normal teenager.
“Sorry,” Tink said as she opened the back door of the car.
“Dada!” Mack said with a squeal. “Hi! Dada!”
Blane got out and helped her wrestle a wiggly Mack and a sleeping Wyn into car seats. A few minutes later, Tink was sitting in the passenger seat and Blane was behind the wheel.
“Where’s Heather?” Tink asked.
“She had to go,” Blane said.
“To Olympia?” Tink asked. “Now?”
“She thought that, since the trial was over, you’d be okay,” Blane said.
Tink fell into a moody silence. Blane gave the girl a worried look before pulling out of the spot and starting toward Tanesha and Jeraine’s home, where they were staying.
“Are you all right?” Blane asked once they were underway.
“Why did she have to go now?” Tink asked.
Mack babbled an answer, and Blane looked at him in the rearview mirror.
“We were pretty lucky, you know,” Blane said. “She could have had to go last week when she was at the trial with you.”
“I know, it’s just that . . .” Tink said.
Tink looked at Blane and shook her head.
“What don’t I understand?” Blane asked.
“I’m just starting my new life!” Tink said. “New kids. I mean, this project and . . .”
Tink shook her head.
“What’s happened?” Blane asked.
“Nothing,” Tink said. “That’s the point. It’s time for happy life, and Heather’s gone!”
Grinning, Blane turned onto Colorado Boulevard.
“Don’t laugh,” Tink said. “I’m totally serious. The jerk’s going to be in prison for the rest of his life and then some. And, I get to get on with the rest of my life.”
Tink smiled at Blane.
“It’s over!” Tink said in a singsong voice. “And I get to live the happy life.”
Blane shook his head at her, and she sighed.
“I miss her terribly when she’s gone,” Blane said.
“Me, too,” Tink said. “You know who doesn’t?”
“Who?” Blane asked.
“M-A-C-K,” Tink spelled out his name so the little boy wouldn’t know they were talking about him.
“Why do you think that is?” Blane asked.
“I think she visits,” Tink said. “WE can’t see it because we’re too old. But M-A-C-K still sees her every day. Wyn will probably, too.”
Blane smiled.
“That seems pretty good to me,” Blane said.
“Why?”
“Because it means she’s around,” Blane said. “Even if we can’t see her.”
Tink shook her head and fell silent again.
“I just miss her,” Tink said as Blane pulled up in front of the house.
“Me, too,” Blane said.
“Any idea how long she’ll be gone?” Tink asked as she grabbed her stuff.
“Time’s different in Olympia, so there’s no way to know,” Blane said.
Tink gave a grim nod. She got Wyn from his car seat and followed Blane, with Mack walking by his side, inside.
Chapter Four Hundred and One
Just Me
Thursday early morning — 1:35 a.m.
Tanesha rolled over and prayed for even an hour of sleep. She was taking her first set of final exams tomorrow. Tomorrow morning she’d finally know the truth — did she belong in medical school? Was she going to be a doctor? Or was she the idiot that she, and everyone who knew her, had always known that she was?
Her father had a lot to say about this. She was brilliant. She was beautiful. She was perfect in every way.
As Tanesha stood watching him go on and on, she remembered all the days and dark nights and long years that he hadn’t been there. She knew it wasn’t his fault, but her bitter, scared mind replayed countless moments where she had to face the world alone. Not wanting to offend him, she finally forced her father to leave.
Jill and Sandy had come over the night before after their last marriage class. They knew what medical school meant to Tanesha. They’d been there when the kid in fifth grade had followed Tanesha around calling her a “gorilla.” They were there when the nun instructed their sixth-grade class that “darkies didn’t go to heaven.” They’d been there in high school when the science teacher had fallen out of his chair laughing when Tanesha said she was going to be a doctor. Jill, Sandy, and Heather had been the only ones who hadn’t jeered and laughed at her.
“Be a nurse,” he’d said. “Lots of your people are nurses. Your people need too much structure to be the boss.”
“Dr. Bumpy is a doctor,” she’d said back to him.
“He has rich and powerful friends,” the science teacher had said, referring to Seth O’Malley. “You have friends like that?”
Everyone in the room was aware of the fact that she was the unnatural cross between a convicted rapist and murderer and a common whore. Everyone had laughed at her.
Except her girls. Heather had said something so snappy that they were all sent to the principal. Of course, the principal reminded them tha
t the Catholic Church was clear about the divinity of “negroes.” Tanesha was so ashamed and overwhelmed that she couldn’t say a word.
“As Plato said himself, every negro’s soul is corrupt,” the principal had said. “And corrupt souls do not get into heaven.”
“Plato said that every slave’s soul was corrupt,” Heather had said. “No one classified slaves by color until…”
The principal had sneered and said something about “out of control” girls would not find husbands. Jill had sniffed at the man, and Sandy had said that maybe the Catholic Church should change its mind. They were suspended for four days. Tanesha’s gran just glared at her. Jill’s sister, Megan, had yelled at the principal. Sandy and Heather’s mothers felt put upon that they were out of school.
One thing was clear. Everyone knew that Tanesha should stay in her place.
Under the basement stairs in her perfect little yellow house, her cheeks flushed red, remembering “her place.” She punched her pillow and rolled onto her stomach. The taunts in her head were so loud that she put her pillow over her head and pressed it to her ears.
Where was the confident girl who had charmed the admissions panel out of full ride scholarships?
Where was the girl who hadn’t needed powerful friends to make a life for herself?
What happened to her innate love of the human body? Her desire to help “darkies” just like herself?
Unable to stop herself, Tanesha began to cry.
She was so angry with herself. She needed to sleep! She didn’t need this boo-hooing! She pounded her fist against the bed.
She felt a cool hand on her shoulder. Shocked, she stopped moving. She hadn’t heard anyone coming down the stairs.
“The fairies can’t come down here because of some hocus-pocus that Jacob and Delphie had performed before they moved in,” she thought.
She stayed still, hoping that she was dreaming.
“Tanesha,” Heather’s voice said. “It’s just me.”
Olney Springs Page 15
