No one spoke.
“I don’t have time for these games,” Dimitri snapped coldly, rising to his feet and leaning on his cane. “Tania, I’m talking to you. Either you take me with you or I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep Alexander here in the Soviet Union with me.”
Her hand still in Alexander’s, Tatiana sat stoically in her chair and then looked at Alexander and raised her shoulders to form a faint question.
Alexander squeezed her hand so hard that she emitted a tiny cry.
“There, there,” exclaimed Dimitri. “That’s the moment I want to see. She convinces you, miraculously seeing everything. Tatiana, how do you do that? How do you have such an uncanny ability to see everything? Your husband, who’s got less of that ability, struggles against you but in the end gives in because he knows it’s the only way.”
Alexander and Tatiana didn’t say a word. He relaxed his hold on her hand, which remained nested in his.
Dimitri folded his arms and waited. “I’m not leaving here until I hear an answer. Tania, what do you say? Alexander has been my friend for six years. I care for both of you. I don’t want any trouble.” Dimitri rolled his eyes. “Believe me—I hate trouble. All I want is to have a small portion of what you are planning for yourselves. That’s not too much to ask, is it? I want a tiny piece of it. Don’t you feel you’ll be selfish, Tania, if you don’t allow me a chance for a new life, too? Come on, now—you, who gave away your oatmeal to a starving Nina Iglenko last year, surely you aren’t going to deny me so little when”—and here he looked at her and Alexander—”you have so much?”
Pain and anger tripping over each other in their race to his already embattled heart, Alexander said, “Tania, don’t listen to him. Dimitri, leave her alone. This is between us. This has nothing to do with her.” Dimitri was quiet. Tatiana was quiet, her fingers rubbing the inside of Alexander’s palm, thoughtfully, intently, rhythmically. She opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t say a word, Tatiana,” said Alexander.
“Say the word, Tatiana,” Dimitri said. “It’s up to you. But please, let me hear your answer. Because I don’t have much time.”
Alexander watched Tatiana rise to her feet. “Dimitri,” Tatiana said without blinking, “woe to him who is alone when he falls, for he has not another to pick him up.”
Dimitri shrugged. “By that I take it to mean that you—” He broke off. “What? What are you saying? Is that a yes or a no?”
Her hand holding Alexander’s tightly, Tatiana said, barely audible, “My husband made you a promise. And he always keeps his word.”
“Yes!” Dimitri exclaimed, springing to her. Alexander watched Tatiana pull sharply away.
Tatiana spoke softly. “Every kindness is repaid by good people,” she said. “Dimitri, I will tell you of our plans later. But you need to be ready at a moment’s notice. Understand?”
“I’m ready this moment,” Dimitri said with excitement. “And I mean that. I want to leave as soon as possible.” He extended his left hand to Alexander, who turned his face away, still holding on to Tatiana. He had no intention of shaking hands with Dimitri.
It was a pale Tatiana who brought their hands together. “It’s all right,” she said, her voice quavering slightly. “It’ll be all right.”
Dimitri left.
“Shura, what could we do?” Tatiana said while feeding him. “It will have to work. It changes things a little bit. But not much. We’ll figure it out.”
Alexander turned his gaze to her.
She nodded. “He wants to survive more than anything else. You told me so yourself.”
But what did you tell me, Tatiana? thought Alexander. What did you tell me up on the roof of St. Isaac’s under the black Leningrad sky?
“We’ll take him. He’ll leave us alone. You’ll see. Just please get better soon.”
“Let’s go, Tania,” said Alexander. “Tell Dr. Sayers that whenever he’s ready to leave, I’ll make myself ready.”
Tatiana left.
A day passed.
Dimitri returned.
He sat down in the chair next to Alexander, who did not look his way. He was staring into the middle distance, into the long distance, into the short distance of his brown wool blanket, trying to recall the last name of the Moscow residence hotel he had lived in with his mother and father. The hotel kept regularly changing names. It had been a source of confusion and hilarity for Alexander, who was now deliberately focusing his mind away from Tatiana and away from the person sitting in the chair not a meter away from him. Oh, no, thought Alexander, with a stab of pain.
He remembered the last name of the hotel.
It was Kirov.
Dimitri cleared his throat. Alexander waited.
“Alexander, can we talk? This is very important.”
“It’s all important,” stated Alexander. “All I do is talk. What?”
“It’s about Tatiana.”
“What about her?” Alexander stared at his IV. How long would it take him to disconnect it? Would he bleed? He looked around the ward. It was just after lunch, and the other wounded were either sleeping or reading. The shift nurse was sitting by the door reading herself. Alexander wondered where Tatiana was. He didn’t need the IV. Tatiana kept it on him to force him to remain in the critical ward, to keep his bed. No. Don’t think about Tatiana. Pulling himself up, Alexander sat upright against the wall.
“Alexander, I know how you feel about her—”
“Do you?”
“Of course—”
“Somehow I doubt it. What about her?”
“She is sick.”
Alexander said nothing.
“Yes. Sick. You don’t know what I know. You don’t see what I see. She is a ghost walking around this hospital. She is fainting constantly. The other day she lay in a faint in the snow for I don’t know how long. A lieutenant had to get her up. We brought her to Dr. Sayers. She put on a brave face—”
“How do you know she was in the snow?”
“I heard the story. I hear everything. Also I see her in the terminal ward. She holds on to the wall when she walks. She told Dr. Sayers she was not getting enough food.”
“And you know this how?”
“Sayers told me.”
“You and Dr. Sayers are getting to be good friends, I see.”
“No. I just bring him bandages, iodine, medical supplies from across the lake. He never seems to have enough. We talk for a few minutes.”
“What’s your point?”
“Did you know she was not feeling well?”
Alexander was thoughtfully grim. He knew why Tatiana was not getting enough food, and he knew why she was fainting. But the last thing he was going to do was trust Dimitri with anything about Tatiana. Alexander kept customarily quiet for a moment and then said, “Dimitri, do you have a point?”
“Yes, I have a point.” Dimitri lowered his voice and pulled the chair closer to the bed. “What we’re planning . . . it’s dangerous. It requires physical strength, courage, fortitude.”
Alexander turned his head to Dimitri. “Yes?” he said, surprised that words like “fortitude” could have come from Dimitri’s mouth. “So?”
“How do you think Tatiana will manage through it all?”
“What are you talking about—”
“Alexander! Listen to me for a second. Wait, before you say more. Listen. She is weak, and we have a very hard road ahead of us. Even with Sayers’s help. Do you know there are six checkpoints between here and Lisiy Nos? Six. One syllable out of her at any of them and we’re all dead. Alexander . . .” Dimitri paused. “She can’t come.”
Keeping his voice low—it was the only way he could keep it—Alexander said, “I am not having this ludicrous conversation.”
“You are not listening.”
“You’re right, I’m not.”
“Stop being so obstinate. You know I am right—”
“I know no such thing!” Alexander exclaimed, his fists clenching. “I know
that without her—” He broke off. What was he doing? Was he trying to convince Dimitri? To keep from shouting required an effort out of Alexander he just wasn’t prepared to make. “I’m growing tired,” he said loudly. “We’ll finish this another time.”
“There is no other time!” Dimitri hissed. “Keep your voice down. We’re supposed to be going in forty-eight hours. And I’m telling you I don’t want to hang because you can’t see clear through the day.”
“Crystal clear, Dimitri,” snapped Alexander. “She’ll be fine. And she will come with us.”
“She collapses here after a six-hour day.”
“Six-hour? Where have you been? She is here twenty-four hours a day. She doesn’t sit in a truck, she doesn’t sit and have cigarettes and vodka on her job. She sleeps on cardboard, and she eats what the soldiers don’t finish, and she washes her face in the snow. Don’t tell me about her day.”
“What if there is a border incident? What if, despite all of Sayers’s efforts, we’re stopped, interrogated? You and I will have to use our weapons. We’ll have to stand and fight.”
“We’ll do what we have to.” Alexander glared at Dimitri’s cane, at his bruised face, at his hunched body.
“Yes, but what will she do?”
“She’ll do what she has to.”
“She is going to faint! She is going to collapse in the snow, and you won’t know whether to kill the border troops or help her up.”
“I will do both.”
“She can’t run, she can’t shoot, she can’t fight. She’ll swoon at the first sign of trouble, and believe me, there is always trouble.”
“Can you run, Dimitri?” Alexander asked, unable to keep the hate out of his voice.
“Yes! I’m still a soldier.”
“What about the doctor? He can’t fight either.”
“He’s a man! And frankly, I’m less worried about him either way—”
“You’re worried about Tatiana? That’s good to hear.”
“I’m worried about what she will do.”
“Ah, that is a fine difference.”
“I’m worried that you will be so busy fretting about her, you will screw up, make stupid mistakes. She will slow you down, make you think twice about taking the kind of chances we might need to take. The Lisiy Nos forest checkpoint is poorly defended, not undefended.”
“You are right. We might have to fight for our freedom.”
“So you agree?”
“No.”
“Alexander, listen to me. This is our last chance. I know it. This is a perfect plan; it could work so well. But she will lead us to ruin. She is not up to it. Don’t be stupid now when we are so close. This is it.” Dimitri smiled. “This is what we’ve been waiting for! There are no more trial runs, there are no more tomorrows, no more next times. This is it.”
“Yes,” said Alexander. “This is it.” Closing his eyes briefly, he fought an impulse to keep them closed.
“So listen to me—”
“I will not listen.”
“You will listen!” exclaimed Dimitri. “You and I have been planning this a long time. Here is our chance! And I’m not saying leave Tania in the Soviet Union for good. Not at all. I’m saying let us, two men, do what we have to do to get out. Get out safely and, most importantly, alive! You’re no good to her dead, and I’m not going to enjoy America if I’m dead myself. Alive, Alexander. Plus, to hide in the swamps—”
“We’re driving to Helsinki in a truck. What swamps?”
“If we need to, I said. Three men and a frail girl, we’re a crowd. We’re not hiding out. We’re asking to be caught. If something were to happen to Sayers, if Sayers were to get killed—”
“Why would Sayers get killed? He’s a Red Cross doctor.” Alexander studied Dimitri intensely.
“I don’t know. But if we had to make it by ourselves across the Baltic—on ice, on foot, hiding out in convoy trucks—well, two men can do it, but three people? We will be too easily noticed. Too easily stopped. And she won’t make it.”
“She made it through the blockade. She made it through the Volga ice. She made it through Dasha. She will make it,” said Alexander, but his heart was burning with uncertainty. The dangers Dimitri was pointing out were so close to Alexander’s own anxieties for Tatiana, it was brutalizing his stomach. “All the things you say may be true,” he continued with great effort, “but you’re forgetting two very important things. What do you think will happen to her here once I’m reported missing?”
“To her? Nothing. Her name is still Tatiana Metanova.” Dimitri nodded slyly. “You have been very careful to keep your marriage hidden. That’ll help you now.”
“It won’t help her.” Alexander stopped.
“No one will know.”
“You’re wrong,” said Alexander. “I will know.” He gritted his teeth to keep the groan of pain from escaping his throat.
“Yes, but you’ll be in America. You’ll be back home.”
Alexander spoke in a flat voice. “She cannot remain behind.”
“She can. She’ll be fine. Alexander, she’s never known anything but this life—”
“Neither have you!”
Dimitri went on. “She’ll continue here as if she’d never met you—”
“How?”
Dimitri laughed. “I know you think a lot of yourself, but she will get over you. Others have. I know she probably cares for you very much—but with time she’ll meet someone else, and she’ll be fine.”
“Stop being an idiot!” Alexander said. “She’ll be arrested in three days. The wife of a deserter. Three days. And you know it. Stop talking horseshit.”
“No one will know who she is.”
“You found out!”
Ignoring Alexander, Dimitri continued calmly, “Tatiana Metanova will go back to Grechesky Hospital and will go on with her life in Leningrad. And if you still want her when you’re settled in America, after the war is over, you can send her a formal letter of invitation, asking her to come to Boston to visit a sick and dying distant aunt. She will come by proper methods, if she can, by train, by ship. Think of this as a temporary separation, until there is a better time for her. For all of us.”
Alexander rubbed the bridge of his nose with his left hand. Somebody come and rescue me from this hell, he thought. The short hairs on his neck stood on end. He breathed more erratically. “Dimitri!” said Alexander, staring straight at him. “You have a chance, for the second time in your life, to do something decent—take it. The first time was when you helped me to see my father. What do you care if she comes with us?”
“I have to think of myself, Alexander. I cannot spend all my time thinking about protecting your wife.”
“How much time have you spent thinking about that?” Alexander exclaimed. “You have always thought only of yourself—”
“Unlike, say, you?” Dimitri laughed.
“Unlike anyone else. Come with us. She extended her hand to you.”
“To protect you.”
“Yes. It doesn’t make her hand any less extended. Take it. She will get us out. We will all be free. You will have the one thing you care about the most—your free life away from war. You do care about that the most, don’t you?” Tania’s St. Isaac’s words swam by Alexander. He covets from you most what you want most. But Alexander would not be defeated. He will never take it all from you, Alexander, his Tatiana had said to him. He will never have that much power. “You will have your free life—because of her. We will not perish—because of her.”
“We’ll all be killed—because of her.”
“I guarantee—you will not perish. Take this chance, have your life. I’m not denying you what is rightfully yours. I said I would get you out, and I will. Tania is very strong, and she will not let us down. You’ll see. She will not falter; she will not fail. You have nothing to do but say yes. She and I will do the rest. You said yourself, this is our last chance. I agree. I feel that more now than ever.”
&nb
sp; “I bet you do,” Dimitri said.
Trying to hide his desperate anger, Alexander said, “Let something else guide you! This war has brought you inside yourself, you have forgotten other people. Remember her. Once. You know that if she stays here, she will die. Save her, Dimitri.” Alexander almost said, please.
“If she comes with us, we will all die,” Dimitri said coldly. “I’m convinced of it.”
Alexander turned his body forward and faced the middle distance once again. His eyes glazed over, cleared, glazed over.
Darkness engulfed him.
Dimitri spoke. “Alexander—think of it as dying at the front. If you had died out on the ice, she would have had to find a way to continue living in the Soviet Union, wouldn’t she? Well, it’s the same thing.”
“It’s all the difference in the world.” Alexander looked into his stiffening hands. Because now there is light in front of her.
“It is no difference to her at all. One way or the other she is without you.”
“No.”
“She is a small price to pay for America!” Dimitri exclaimed.
Shuddering, Alexander made no reply, his heart pumping out of his chest. The Fontanka Bridge, the granite parapets, Tatiana on her knees.
“She will doom us all.”
“Dimitri, I already said no,” he said, steel in his voice.
Dimitri narrowed his eyes. “Are you deliberately not understanding me? She can’t come.”
I am just a means to an end, she had said. I am just ammunition.
Alexander laughed. “Finally! I was wondering how long it would take you to issue your useless threats. You say she can’t come?”
“No, she can’t.”
“That’s fine,” said Alexander with a short nod. “I’m not going either. The whole thing is off. It’s over. Dr. Sayers is leaving for Helsinki immediately. In three days I’m going back to the front. Tania will return to Leningrad.” Steadying his loathing stare on Dimitri, he said, “No one is going. You’re dismissed, Private. Our meeting is finished.”
The Bronze Horseman Page 73