The Bronze Horseman

by Paullina Simons

  Tatiana was barely standing.

  Holding on to her, Alexander looked up for a moment and then pressed his head into her rib cage just below her breasts.

  Tatiana, not knowing what to do with her hands, placed them carefully on Alexander’s head. His hair was short and thick, straight and dry. Tatiana liked how it felt. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe normally. “Are you all right?” she asked in a whisper.

  “I am, yes,” Alexander replied. “Tatia, instead of thinking about yourself, couldn’t you have once thought about me? Couldn’t you have just imagined me for five seconds, and what I was going through for six months?”

  “I could have. I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Had you done that, thought of me for five seconds, and written to me, you would have gotten letters back that would have eased every single one of your fears. And you would have eased mine.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I honestly thought that there could be only two explanations for your silence. One, you were dead. Two, you had”—he paused—”found someone else. I never imagined that any of the lies I spoke would get under your skin. I thought you had the ability to see clear to the truth.”

  “I had that ability?” Tatiana said softly, caressing his head. “Where is your ability?” Found someone else? she thought. “Honestly.”

  He rubbed his forehead from side to side against her. “What did Axinya call you? A warm bun?”

  Tatiana couldn’t breathe. “Yes,” she muttered. “A warm bun.”

  Alexander’s hands on her hips tightened. “A small warm bun,” he whispered.

  Very, very gently, Tatiana stroked his hair with her shaking fingers. Her breath was so shallow it was not getting air into her lungs.

  “This is too close, even by Fifth Soviet standards,” Alexander said at last.

  “What?” she whispered, trying not to disturb the night. “Us? Or this house?”

  “Us?” he said with surprise, looking up at her. “No. This house.”

  Tatiana shivered.

  “Cold?”

  She nodded, hoping he wouldn’t touch her burning skin.

  “Want to go in?”

  Reluctantly Tatiana nodded again. All she wanted was for his hands to remain on her, tight around her hips, tight around her waist, around her back, around her legs, anywhere, everywhere, but tight and on her and permanent.

  Alexander lifted his head to her. Parting her mouth, she was about to bend—

  Suddenly Tatiana heard the shuffling of Naira Mikhailovna on the porch. Alexander lowered his hands and his head. Against her will she stepped away from him, just as Naira descended the steps, mumbling, “Forgot to go one last time.”

  “Of course,” said Alexander, not even bothering to smile.

  Naira stared at Tatiana for a moment. “Tanechka, what are you doing? Go get ready for bed, dear. It’s so late already, and you know how early we wake up.”

  “I will, Naira Mikhailovna.”

  When Naira went around the corner, Tatiana let her glance stop at Alexander, who was looking at her unhappily. She shrugged, also unhappily. They went inside. Getting a big white shirt out of her trunk, Tatiana thought, where to change? Alexander had no such reservations. He took off his shirt right in front of her, leaving on his linen trousers as he hopped up onto the bed. Tatiana had never seen Alexander without his uniform, his shirt, his long johns; she had never seen Alexander bare. He was very muscled. Was she ever going to get her breath back? She did not think so.

  She couldn’t take off her dress and put on her nightshirt. She decided to leave the dress on.

  “Good night,” she said, dimming the kerosene lamp. Alexander did not reply.

  Naira walked through the house to her bedroom saying, “Good night.”

  Tatiana said good night. Alexander didn’t make a sound.

  Still in her dress, Tatiana was under the blanket on the porch sofa when she heard Alexander’s deep voice from inside call for her. “Tatia.”

  She got up and stood shyly in the doorway.

  “Come here,” Alexander said, his muted voice cracking.

  All she wanted was to go to him. But she was so afraid. She walked around the table.

  “Stand on the hearth,” Alexander told her.

  Tatiana stood, her face next to his, and before he had a chance to whisper or open his mouth, she kissed him, her hands clutching his head.

  “Come here,” he breathed out. She felt him trying to pull her up.

  “Oh, Shura, I can’t . . . There will be the biggest fuss . . .” She couldn’t stop kissing him either.

  “Tania, I don’t give a shit if it’s in tomorrow’s papers. Right now come here to me.” He pulled her up by her arms, and once she was up, he entwined her with all his limbs, his whole enormous body swallowing her as they kissed ravenously.

  “God, Tatia,” Alexander whispered. “Oh, God, I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Me, too,” she replied, her lips open, her hands stroking his back. “So much.” For a moment he stopped kissing her and moving against her, as he embraced her in a nest inside him. Tatiana could not believe how remarkable it felt to touch Alexander’s naked back and hard shoulders and hard arms.

  He was crushing her to him, his lips more demanding, his insistent hands all over her. He had only two hands? Then why were they everywhere at once? She was enveloped in him, unable to keep her eyes open, yet all she wanted was to see him, to not miss a second of him. Pulling up her dress to her waist, Alexander touched her bare leg. Involuntarily her legs spread apart slightly, and Tatiana moaned into his lips.

  Smiling, Alexander whispered, “Oh, Tania. Moan, but not too loud. Wait, not so loud.”

  Her legs opened a little more. His hand caressed the inside of her thigh.

  “No,” she groaned. Stop, please.

  He licked her lips. “Tania, your thighs . . .” Alexander whispered. His hand climbed on her.

  Tatiana tried to pull away from him, but there was nowhere for her to go. “Shura,” she whispered. “Please. Stop.”

  “I can’t,” he said. “Are they sound sleepers?”

  “No, not at all,” she whispered. “They wake up at the sound of a cricket in the house. They come outside five times to go to the outhouse. Please. I can’t keep quiet. You’d have to suffocate me to keep me quiet.”

  They kept whispering into each other’s wet mouths.

  “Stop,” she whispered. “Stop.” They could not stop.

  Alexander’s hand reluctantly came away from her leg, resting on her bare stomach under her dress. “I like the dress,” he whispered.

  “You’re not touching the dress.”

  “No? Feels nice. Soft. Take it off.”

  “No,” she said, pushing him away slightly.

  They lay relatively quiet for a few minutes as they got their breath back.

  Alexander’s fingers went back to rubbing her leg. “Stop rubbing my leg,” Tatiana whispered. She throbbed from her thighs to her navel. “Stop touching me.”

  “Can’t. I’ve waited too long for you.” Bending over her, he pressed his lips to her throat. “You don’t want me, Tania?” he whispered. “Tell me you don’t want me.” His hands were tugging the dress down from her shoulders. “Take it off.”

  “Please,” she panted. “Shura, come on, I can’t keep quiet. You have to stop.”

  He wouldn’t stop. The dress came off one arm, then off the other.

  Alexander took her hand and put it on his chest. “Tania, feel my heart! Don’t you want to lie against my chest?” he said imploringly. “Your bare breasts on my chest, your heart next to my heart. Come on, just for a second. Then you can put the dress back on.”

  Tatiana silently stared at him in the dark, at his blazing bronze eyes, at his moist mouth. How could she say no to Alexander? She lifted her arms. Alexander slipped the dress over her head. She went to cover her breasts, and his hands stopped her. “Keep your hands down.”


  He lay on his back and said, “Come, lie on top of me.”

  “You don’t want to lie on top of me?” Tatiana asked softly.

  He pulled her to him. “Not if you want me to stop.”

  Groaning, Tatiana lay down carefully against his chest.

  “Oh, Tania,” Alexander said intensely, his arms around her. “Do you feel that?”

  “I do,” she whispered, her own heart ready to burst.

  His hands ran over her back down to her hips, caressing her through her panties, pulling them down a little, caressing her bare bottom. Pushing her up from him, Alexander fondled her breasts. “I have been dreaming of your beautiful breasts for a year,” he said, smiling, breathing through his parted mouth. Tatiana wanted to tell him that she had been dreaming of his beautiful, unstoppable hands on her for a year but couldn’t speak. She wanted to tell him that she had been dreaming of his beautiful, unstoppable mouth on her nipples for a year but couldn’t speak. What she wanted to do was lean over him and put her nipple into his mouth. She was too shy to do that. All she could do was watch his face and pant.

  Alexander closed his eyes. “Tatia, please, keep quiet. I can’t wait any longer.” He pulled at her nipples. She moaned so loudly that he stopped, but not for long. Pushing her off him, Alexander lay her down onto her back. “Look at you,” he whispered. He sucked her nipples for a moment. Tatiana’s hands were grasping at the sheet. One of Alexander’s hands went around her mouth, the other went on her thigh. “Tania,” he said, “you think I’m hungry?”

  “Hmm . . .” she panted into his palm.

  “I’m not hungry,” Alexander whispered. “I’m famished. Watch out for me. Now, don’t make a single sound,” he said, getting on top of her. “Tania, God . . . I’ll cover your mouth, just like this, and you hold on to my arms, just like this, and I’m going to—just like this—”

  Tatiana cried out so loudly that Alexander stopped, fell back on the bed, put his arm over his face, and groaned.

  They lay next to each other, only their legs touching, hers bare, his still in his trousers. His arm remained around his face.

  Reluctantly Tatiana put her dress back on.

  “I’m going to die,” he whispered to her. “Die, Tatiana.”

  You’re going to die? she thought, beginning to crawl to the edge to get down.

  Alexander stopped her. “Where are you going? Sleep with me.”

  “No, Shura.”

  “What?” He smiled, still panting. “You don’t trust me?”

  “Not for a second.” She smiled back.

  “I promise I’ll be good.”

  “No, they’ll come out, they’ll see.”

  “See what? What are they going to do?” He wasn’t letting go of her arms. “Tatia, right here,” he whispered, tapping on his chest. “Just like you did in Luga. Remember? You called me over, you said, come near me. Well, now I’m telling you to come.”

  Tatiana crawled to him and put her head into the crook of his arm. Alexander pulled the blankets over them and hugged her. She placed her hand on his smooth bare chest, feeling his rapid heart. “Shura, darling . . .”

  “I’ll be all right,” he said, sounding as if he wouldn’t be.

  “Just like in Luga.” She rubbed his chest gently.

  “Maybe a little lower? Just kidding, just kidding,” he quickly said when Tatiana stopped. “Love your hair against me,” Alexander whispered, stroking her head, kissing her temple. “Love everything of yours against me.”

  “Don’t, Shura, please,” Tatiana muttered, kissing his chest and closing her eyes. She felt infinite comfort lying in his arms. His fingers caressing her head were forcing her eyes shut. “That feels nice,” she murmured.

  Minutes passed. Minutes or—

  Maybe seconds.

  Moments.

  Blink.

  “Tania,” Alexander said, “are you asleep?”

  “No,” she said, and then they looked at each other and smiled. She parted her mouth to kiss him, and he shook his head and said, “No. Keep your lips away, if you want me away.”

  Tatiana kissed his shoulder and stroked him while he stroked her. “Shura,” she whispered, “I’m so happy you came for me.”

  “I know. Me, too.”

  She rubbed her lips against his skin.

  “Tania,” whispered Alexander, “want to talk?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Tell me. Start at the beginning. Don’t stop until you finish.”

  Tatiana started at the beginning but couldn’t get past the sled near the ice hole in the lake.

  Neither could Alexander.

  Then she was asleep and woke up when the rooster crowed.

  7

  “Oh, my,” she said, trying to extricate herself from him. “Let go. I have to go, quick.”

  Alexander was profoundly asleep and not moving. She noticed that about him. He was a good sleeper. She managed to move out from under his arm and jump down from the side of the stove.

  Tatiana put on a clean dress and ran to get the water from the well, and ran to milk the goat, and ran to exchange goat’s milk for some cow’s milk. When she came back to the house, Alexander was already up and shaving. “Good morning,” he said to her, smiling.

  “Good morning,” she said, too embarrassed to look at him. “Here, let me help.” She sat in the chair in front of him, holding a small broken mirror to her chest as he shaved. He kept cutting himself every few seconds, as if the knife he was using weren’t sharp. “You’re going to kill yourself with that thing,” said Tatiana. “What do they issue you in the army? Maybe you should grow your beard back.”

  “It’s not the knife,” he said. “The knife is very sharp.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “Nothing, nothing.”

  She saw him staring at her breasts.

  “Alexander . . .” she said, putting the mirror down.

  “Oh, now that it’s daylight, I’m suddenly Alexander again?” he said.

  Tatiana couldn’t look at him but couldn’t help smiling either. She felt so exhilarated this morning, she had practically skipped home carrying the two pails of milk.

  Alexander made coffee. He poured her a cup, and they sat silently outside in the breathy morning and drank the hot liquid, their bodies lightly touching. “It’s a nice morning,” she said quietly.

  “It’s a glorious morning,” he said, turning to her and beaming.

  Naira called her, and Tatiana went to attend to her chores while Alexander collected his things. “What are you doing?” she asked with a twitch of anxiety when he came outside.

  “We’re getting out of here,” he said. “Right now.”

  “We are?” A smile lit up her face.

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t, I have to do laundry. I have to make breakfast.”

  “Tania, that’s my point exactly. I have to come before laundry. I have to come before breakfast.” Alexander stared at her.

  She backed away. “Look,” she said, “help me. I’ll be done so much faster if you help me.”

  “And then you’ll come with me?”

  “Yes,” she said, almost inaudibly. But Alexander smiled at her. She knew he had heard.

  She made eggs and potatoes for everyone. Alexander gulped down his food and said, “Let’s go do the laundry.”

  Quickly he carried the basket of clothes to the river. Tatiana carried the washboard and soap. She could hardly keep up.

  “So since when do you make rude jokes in the presence of a whole group of young people?” Alexander asked.

  Tatiana shook her head. “Shura, it was just a stupid joke. I didn’t realize it was going to upset you.”

  “Yes you did. That’s why you didn’t want to tell it in front of me.”

  She ran alongside him. “I didn’t want you to be upset.”

  “Why would I be upset? Have I ever been upset by your other jokes?”

  Tatiana kept quiet before she answered him
because she wanted to figure out what it was that was obviously still niggling him. That the joke was inappropriate? That it was rude? That she told the joke to Vova? To strangers Alexander didn’t know? That it was out of her character? That it didn’t fit in with what he knew about her? Yes, Tatiana decided. It was the last. He brought it up now because he was worried about something. She said nothing until they got to the river. “I barely know what the joke means,” she said.

  He glanced at her. “But you know just enough what it means?”

  Aha, thought Tatiana. He is worried about me. She didn’t reply, stepping into the water and wetting the washboard and the soap.

  Alexander watched her while he smoked. “So how do you keep your white dress from getting wet?”

  “The bottom gets a little wet. What?” She blushed. “What are you looking at?”

  “The whole dress doesn’t get wet?” He was grinning.

  “Well, no. I don’t stand and wash clothes in water up to my neck.”

  Stubbing out his cigarette and taking off his shirt and boots, Alexander said, “Here, let me. Just hand me the clothes, will you?”

  There was something so endearing and incomprehensible about him, a captain in the Red Army standing knee deep in the Kama, shirtless, his big soapy arms immersed in women’s work, while Tatiana stood dry as gin and handed him dirty clothes. She found it so amusing, in fact, that when she saw him drop a pillowcase in the river and bend to pick it up, she tiptoed up to him and gave him a great shove. Alexander toppled over into the water.

  When he came back up, Tatiana was laughing so hard it took her a few seconds to run up the riverbank away from him. Alexander caught her in three strides.

  “Not very good balance, big man,” Tatiana said, laughing. “What if I were a Nazi?”

  Saying nothing, he carried her to the river.

  “No, instantly put me down,” she said, “I’m wearing a nice dress.”

  “You are,” he said, flinging her into the water.

  She came up soaked. “Now look what you’ve done,” she said, splashing him. “I have nothing to go back in.”

  Alexander caught her in his arms and kissed her, lifting her into the air. Tatiana felt them both slipping back, back, back, and they fell in, and when they came up for air, all decorum gone, Tatiana jumped on him to dunk him, but she just didn’t weigh enough to push him down. He threw her off him and held her head for a few seconds underwater while she grabbed for his leg. “Do you give up?” he asked, pulling her head out.