The Bronze Horseman

by Paullina Simons

  “That’s all right,” Tatiana said, twinging with pain, remembering the potato counter Alexander had built in Lazarevo.

  With her ration card in hand, she went to the Elisey food store on Nevsky. She couldn’t bear to go back to the store on Fontanka and Nekrasova where she used to get the family rations a year ago. In Elisey it was too late for bread, but she did get some real milk, some beans, an onion, and four tablespoons of oil. For a hundred rubles she bought a can of tushonka. Since she wasn’t working yet, her bread ration was only 350 grams, but for workers it rose to 700. Tatiana planned to get a job.

  Tatiana looked for a bourzhuika but had no luck. She even went to Gostiny Dvor shopping center, across from Elisey on Nevsky, but couldn’t find anything there. She had 3,000 rubles left of Alexander’s money, and she would have gladly spent half of it on a bourzhuika to keep her warm, but there was none to be found. With her bag of food Tatiana walked across Nevsky, past the European Hotel, down Mikhailovskaya Ulitsa, crossed the street into the Italian Gardens, and sat on the bench where Alexander had told her about America.

  She didn’t move, not even when the bombing started, not even when she saw shelling down Mikhailovskaya and across Nevsky. She watched a bomb fall on the pavement and explode in a black flame. Alexander will be so angry when he finds out I’m here, Tatiana thought, finally getting up and heading home. But she wanted him alive; she didn’t care if he killed her. She had seen Alexander’s temper—he had lost his mind during their last days in Lazarevo. How Alexander got sane—if Alexander got sane—after he left her, Tatiana did not know.

  She went back to work at Grechesky Hospital. She had been right. The hospital was in dire need of help. The administration officer saw her former Grechesky employment stamp, asked if she had been a nurse, and Tatiana replied that she had been a nurse’s aide and that it would take her no time at all to brush up on her skills. She asked to be placed in the critical care unit. She was given a white uniform and followed a nurse named Elizaveta for one nine-hour shift and then a nurse named Maria for another nine-hour shift. The nurses did not lift their eyes to Tatiana.

  But the patients did.

  After two weeks of working eighteen-hour days, Tatiana was finally given her own rounds and a Sunday afternoon off. She got up her courage to go to Pavlov barracks.

  2

  Tatiana needed just a word that Alexander was all right and where he was stationed.

  The sentry at the gate was no one she knew; his name was Viktor Burenich. The young soldier was friendly and eager to help. She liked that. He checked the roster of all the soldiers currently at the barracks and told her that Alexander Belov was not there. She asked if he knew where the captain was. The guard replied with a smile that he did not. “But he’s all right as far as you know?” she asked.

  The guard shrugged. “I think so, but they don’t tell me these things.”

  Holding her breath, Tatiana asked if Dimitri Chernenko was still alive.

  He was. Tatiana exhaled. Burenich said Chernenko wasn’t at the garrison at present, but that he constantly came and went with supplies.

  Tatiana tried to think of who else she knew. “Is Anatoly Marazov here?” she asked.

  He was, what luck.

  In a few minutes Tatiana saw Marazov through the gate.

  “Tatiana!” He seemed glad to see her. “What a surprise to see you here. Alexander had told me you evacuated with your sister.” He paused. “I’m sorry about your sister.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said, her eyes welling up involuntarily. She was extremely relieved. If Marazov mentioned Alexander so offhandedly, it meant that everything was all right.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you, Tania,” Marazov said.

  “No, no, you haven’t upset me.” They stood in the passageway.

  “You want to walk around the block?” Marazov asked her. “I have a few minutes.”

  They strolled with their coats buttoned to Palace Square.

  “Are you here to see Dimitri? He’s not in my unit anymore.”

  “Oh, I know,” she said, and stammered. Could she keep all the lies in her head? How would she have known about Dimitri? “I know he was injured. I saw him at Kobona a few months back.” And if she wasn’t here to see Di-mitri, who was she here to see?

  “Yes, he’s now on this side. Running. Unhappy about that, too. I just don’t know what he wants the war to give him.”

  “Are you still in . . . Alexander’s destroyer company?”

  “No, Alexander doesn’t have a company anymore. He was wounded—” Marazov broke off as Tatiana stumbled. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m sorry. Yes, of course. I tripped,” she said, crossing her arms around her stomach. She thought that any minute she was going to faint. She had to keep herself together at all costs. She had to. “What happened to him?”

  “His hands were burned in an attack in September.”

  “His hands?” His hands.

  “Yes. Second-degree burns. Couldn’t hold a cup of water for weeks. He’s better now.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Back at the front.”

  Tatiana couldn’t continue anymore. “Lieutenant, maybe we should go back. I really must get back.”

  “All right,” Marazov said, puzzled, as they turned around. “Why did you come back to Leningrad anyway?”

  “There’s a shortage of nurses. I came back to be a nurse.” She quickened her step. “Are you posted to Shlisselburg?”

  “Eventually, yes. We have a new base of operations for the Leningrad front, up in Morozovo—”

  “Morozovo? Listen—I’m glad you’re all right. What’s next for you?”

  He shook his head. “We’ve lost so many men trying to break the blockade, we’re constantly regrouping. But next time out I think I’m with Alexander again.”

  “Oh, yes?” she said, her legs weakening. “Well, I hope so. Listen, it was good to see you.”

  “Tania, are you all right?” Marazov stared at her, that look of sad familiarity creeping into his eyes again. Tatiana remembered his face when he met her for the first time, last September. He had looked at her as if he already knew her.

  She managed a small smile. “Of course. I’m fine.” Stiffly she came up to him and laid her hand on his sleeve. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

  “Should I tell Dimitri you stopped by?”

  “No! Please don’t.”

  He nodded. Tatiana was nearly down the street when he yelled, “Should I tell Alexander?”

  She turned around. “Please don’t,” she called back faintly.

  The following night when Tatiana came home from the hospital, she found Dimitri waiting for her in the hallway with Stan and Inga.

  “Dimitri?” said a shocked Tatiana. “What—how—what are you doing here?” She glared at Stan and Inga.

  “We let him in, Tanechka,” said Inga. “He said you used to see each other last year?”

  Dimitri came up to Tatiana and put his arms around her. She stood with her own arms at her side. “I heard you came asking for me,” he said. “I was so touched. You want to go inside your room?”

  “Who told you I stopped by?”

  “Burenich, the sentry guard. He said a young girl stopped by asking for me. You didn’t leave your name, but he described you. I’m very touched, Tania. These have been very hard months for me.”

  He was lopsided and hollow-eyed.

  “Dimitri, this is not a good time for me,” she said, casting an angry glance toward Inga and Stan. She turned her face away from him. “I’m very tired.”

  “You must be hungry. You want to have dinner?”

  “I ate at the hospital,” Tatiana lied. “And I have almost nothing here.” How to get him to go, just go? “I have to wake up tomorrow at five. I have two nine-hour shifts back to back. I’m on my feet all day. Another time, perhaps?”

  “No, Tania. I don’t know if there will be another time,” Dimitri said. “Come on. Maybe
you can make me some tea. A little something to eat? For old times?”

  Tatiana could not even imagine Alexander’s reaction when he found out that Dimitri was in the room with her. This was not in her plans—to deal with him. She didn’t know what to do about him. But then she thought, Alexander still has to deal with him. So I have to deal with him. He is not just Alexander’s. He is ours.

  Tatiana fried Dimitri some soybeans on a Primus stove that she had borrowed from Slavin in return for occasionally cooking for him. She threw in a few small carrots with the beans and a piece of old onion. She gave him some black bread with a spoonful of butter. When Dimitri asked for vodka, Tatiana told him she was all out, not wanting him to get drunk while she was alone with him. The room was poorly illuminated by a kerosene lamp; there was electricity, but Tatiana couldn’t find any lightbulbs in the stores.

  He ate with the plate on his lap. She sat on the far end of the couch and realized she had not taken off her coat yet. She took off her coat, and while he ate, she went and made herself a cup of tea.

  “Why is it so cold in this room?” Dimitri asked.

  “No heat,” replied Tatiana. She was still wearing her nurse’s uniform, and her hair was tied back in a nurse’s white head kerchief.

  “So, Tania, tell me—how have you been? You look good,” Dimitri said. “You don’t look like a girl anymore.” He smiled. “You look like a young woman. You look older.”

  “Enough things happen to you,” said Tatiana, “and you almost can’t help it.”

  “You look very good. This war agrees with you.” Dimitri smiled. “You’ve gained weight since I saw you last—”

  Tatiana leveled a look at him that stopped him. “Dimitri,” she said quietly, “last time you saw me, I was in Kobona, asking for your help to bury my sister. Maybe you’ve forgotten. But I haven’t.”

  “Tania, oh, I know,” he said, with a casual drift of his hand. “We just completely lost touch. But I never stopped thinking about you. I’m glad you made it out of Kobona. Many people didn’t.”

  “My sister, for one.” Tatiana wanted to ask how in the world could he have looked Alexander in the face and lied about Dasha, but Tatiana could not bear to say her husband’s name in front of Dimitri.

  “I’m sorry about your sister,” Dimitri said. “My parents died, too. So I know how you feel.” Dimitri paused. Tatiana waited. Waited for him to finish eating and leave.

  “How did you get back to Leningrad?” Dimitri asked her.

  Tatiana told him.

  But she didn’t want to talk about herself. She didn’t want to talk about anything. Where was Dasha, where was Alexander, where were Mama and Papa, surrounding Tatiana so she wouldn’t have to sit in the room alone with Dimitri?

  Taking a deep breath, Tatiana asked him what he was doing with himself, now that he looked to be permanently injured.

  “I’m a runner. Do you know what that is?”

  Tatiana knew what a runner was. But she shook her head. If he was talking about himself, he was not asking her questions.

  “I get supplies for the front lines and for the rear units from trucks, from planes, from ships, and I distribute them around—”

  “Where do you distribute them? Here in Leningrad?” she asked.

  “Here, yes. Also to various delivery points on this side of the Neva. And to the Karelian side near Finland.” Glancing at her sideways, Dimitri said, “Do you see why I’m so unhappy?”

  “Of course I do,” Tatiana said. “The war is dangerous. You don’t want to be in this war.”

  “I don’t want to be in this country,” Dimitri mumbled, barely heard.

  But heard.

  “Did you say you deliver to the Finnish line?” she asked, her voice fading with her strength.

  “Yes, to the border troops on the Karelian Isthmus. I also deliver to our new headquarters for the Neva operations in Morozovo. The command post was built there, while we plan our next move—”

  “Where on the Karelian Isthmus?”

  “I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of a place called Lisiy Nos . . .”

  “I’ve heard of it,” Tatiana said, holding on to the arm of the couch.

  “There.” Dimitri smiled. “I also bring supplies on foot from quarters to quarters. Do you know, Tania, I even bring in supplies for the generals!” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  “Oh, yes?” she said, barely listening. “Anyone interesting?”

  Lowering his voice, Dimitri said, “I’m getting to be quite friendly with General Mekhlis.” He laughed with satisfaction. “I bring him paper, pens, plus if I get anything extra—if you get my meaning—I bring it to him. Never ask him to pay me. Cigarettes, vodka, all goes to him. He quite looks forward to my visits.”

  “Oh?” Tatiana said. She had no idea who Mekhlis was. “Mekhlis . . . what army does he command?”

  “Tania, are you joking?”

  “No. Why would I joke?” Tatiana was exhausted.

  In a gleeful whisper Dimitri said, “Mekhlis commands the NKVD army!” Lowering his voice, he said, “He is Beria’s right-hand man!” Lavrenti Beria was Stalin’s People’s Commissar of the NKVD.

  Tatiana had been afraid of bombs once, and of hunger, and of death. She was afraid once of being lost in the woods. And once she was afraid of a human being wanting to do her harm for no reason other than to do her harm.

  The harm was the means and the end.

  Tonight Tatiana wasn’t afraid for herself.

  But studying Dimitri’s depraved, ominously insinuating face, she was afraid for Alexander.

  Before tonight she had felt twinges of remorse about leaving Lazarevo and reneging on what had been a heartfelt promise to her husband. But now she became convinced that Alexander didn’t just need her closer to him, he needed her more than even she herself had thought possible.

  Someone had to protect Alexander—not just from random death, no, but from deliberate destruction.

  Without moving, without blinking, without flinching, Tatiana studied Dimitri.

  She watched him put down his cup and move closer on the couch to her. Then she blinked and came out of her thoughts. “What are you doing?”

  “I can tell, Tania,” Dimitri said. “You are not a child anymore.”

  She did not move a muscle as he moved closer still.

  “Inga and Stan out there told me you are working so much that they are convinced you are seeing a doctor at the hospital. Is that true?”

  “If Inga and Stan told you, then it must be,” Tatiana said. “The Communists never lie, Dimitri.”

  Nodding, Dimitri moved closer.

  “What are you doing?” Tatiana got up off the couch. “Listen, it’s getting late.”

  “Tania, come on. You’re lonely. I’m lonely. I hate my life, hate every minute of every day of it. Do you feel like that sometimes?”

  Only tonight, Tatiana thought. “No, Dima. I’m fine. I have a good life, all things considered. I’m working, the hospital needs me, my patients need me. I’m alive. I have food.”

  “Tania, but you must be so lonely.”

  “How can I be lonely?” she said. “I’m constantly surrounded by people. And I thought I was seeing a doctor? Listen, let’s stop this. It’s late.”

  He got up and made a move toward her. Tatiana put out her hands. “Dimitri, that’s all over. I’m not the one for you.” She stared at him pointedly. “And you’ve always known that, yet you’ve always been quite persistent. Why?”

  With an easy laugh, Dimitri said, “Maybe I had been hoping, dear Tania, that the love of a good young woman like yourself would redeem a rogue like me.”

  Tatiana leveled her cold gaze on him. “I’m glad to hear,” she said at last, “that you don’t think you’re beyond redemption.”

  He laughed again. “Oh, but I am, Tania,” he said. “I am. Because I didn’t have the love of a good young woman like you.” He stopped laughing and raised his eyes to her. “But who did?” he said quie
tly.

  Tatiana didn’t reply, standing in the place where the dining room table used to be, before Alexander sawed it to pieces for her and Dasha to use as firewood. So many ghosts in one small, dark room. It was almost as if the room were still crowded with feeling, with want, with hunger.

  Dimitri’s eyes flashed. “I don’t understand,” he said loudly. “Why did you come to the barracks asking for me? I thought this was what you wanted. Are you just trying to lead me on? To tease me?” He raised his voice, far beyond the levels these walls could contain. He came closer. “Because in the army we have a word for girls who tease us.” He laughed. “We call them mothers.”

  “Dima, is that what you think? That I’m a tease? You think that’s me, the girl who wants one thing and pretends she wants another? Is that me?”

  He grumbled without replying.

  “I thought so,” said Tatiana. “I’ve been very clear with you right from the start. I came to the barracks asking for you, for Marazov. I just wanted to see a familiar face.” Tatiana wasn’t going to back down, though inside she was cold and far away from him.

  “Did you ask for Alexander, too, perhaps?” Dimitri asked. “Because if you did, you know, you wouldn’t find him at the garrison. Alexander would be either up in Morozovo, if he was on duty, or in every knocking joint in Leningrad, if he wasn’t.”

  Feeling herself pale inside and out, and hoping Dimitri didn’t see and didn’t hear the paling of her voice, Tatiana said, “I asked for everybody I knew.”

  “Everybody except Petrenko,” Dimitri said, as if he knew. “Even though you were quite friendly with him, coming around as often as you used to last year. Why didn’t you ask for your friend, Ivan Petrenko? Before he got himself killed, he told me that he sometimes used to walk you to the ration store. On orders of Captain Belov, of course. He was quite helpful to you and your family. Why wouldn’t you ask about him?”

  Tatiana was stunned. She felt herself to be so ridiculously in need of Alexander, so ridiculously in need of protection against this specter of a man in her room that she didn’t know what to say.