When Nazir indicated it was time to end the show we went back to the dressing room. Nazir followed us and gave us both envelopes before returning to his guests. I looked inside and there were five one-hundred dollar bills. I smiled and noticed Alexa was looking at me. I felt somewhat awkward but I said, “Alexa, I hope you enjoyed everything…on stage and all.” She laughed and gave me what looked like a smile mixed with a snarl and said, “Don’t flatter yourself, I have had much better.” She then counted her money, “six hundred and fifty. I guess we can do this again next week?” I just stood there and stared at her, mad at myself for not knowing some good come-back to insult her with right then!
Nazir returned and asked, “I need you for a performance next Monday. It will be just dancing until then.” I asked, “So am I with Alexa again?” He shook his head, “No, I have had some guests make a special request for you and your girlfriend Petra to do a show for them. Guess you two girls have impressed them.” I said I would be okay with it and would let her know. He then asked, “Amber, out of my curious nature, you have a baby, right?” I said I did. He then asked, “So men do not turn you off?” I laughed, “Not really.” He replied, “Good!” and walked away.
On the way home that evening I felt emotionally numb. I did not like Alexa but I knew I would never be able to fully forget her. I felt used…not so much by the men that night but by her. And to top it off I still resented her flirtations with Katja. Maybe I was just tired but I began to wonder how much Katja could be trusted to be loyal to me. I even, just for the moment, began to regret how fast I had taken the relationship with Katja. I was the one who was risking everything after all. Disclosure of any aspect of my special relationships could ruin me politically and might hang around me like a brand on my forehead for the rest of my life. Yet as I drove up to the apartment I seemed to snap out of my doubts – for the moment.
As I opened the door and walked in Katja was sitting on the couch and watching TV. She turned to me and in a voice of total sweetness said, “I waited up for you my love.” I walked over, took her by the back of her head and locked my lips against hers until she began to struggle to get away. She responded, “Wow! I could get used to that!” She then asked, “So how was it? Were you with Tiffanie?” She seemed inquisitive in a manner that I felt was highly unusual. It was as if she were asking what I had for dinner, not who I had engaged in a public sex act with. I felt a little angry and questioned, in my mind, how serious this girl took sexuality.
I then said, “No, they made me pair up with Alexa.” She looked surprised and then smiled, “Lucky you! I think Alexa is really beautiful and I am sure you at least had a good time.” At that I could not help myself. I asked, “So, do you wish it had been you instead of me?” She lost the smile and looked at me like I was from some other planet. She said, “Of course not! I was just saying that she is pretty and seems nice. I did not mean I wanted her for a lover.” I growled, “I wonder sometimes. It seems you light up every time she comes into the dressing room.”
At that she stood up and screamed, “Look Melanie, if I said I love you and want only you then I mean it; so stop being so insecure!” I angrily replied, “Well, maybe I have a good reason to wonder!” At that she said something in a frustrated voice, but it was in Russian, and began to cry, “Look here, if you don’t believe me then you can go f…” She stopped in mid-sentence. I asked, “What? Why don’t you finish…you know you want to!” She again screamed, “Go to hell!” ran into the bedroom and slammed the door.
I was furious. I sat down on the couch and simmered. My doubts seemed to be true after all. I just sat there and wondered how stupid I had been to trust this girl. Soon, however, I passed out from sheer exhaustion.
The next morning I awoke to the smell of breakfast being made. As I focused my eyes I saw a card next to me on the couch. I half-expected it to contain a break-up message, but instead it read, “To my eternal darling and love. Please forgive me. I am sort of on edge this time of month. I am only yours.” I took a deep breath and just looked at the card. Katja came over, reached out and said, “Our first fight. I hope it is our last.” I took her hand and shook my head, “No Katja, it won’t be our last but I want you to remember…everyone will let us down, it is the ones we choose to love that makes it worth the hurt.” She smiled and we held each other tight. I apologized for not coming to bed after the fight and she apologized for not coming back to me. My doubts, right then and there, evaporated. She never asked about the performance with Alexa again.
That day we went for a long hike near Mount Hood. I knew I had to dance that evening, but it was fun to hang out with Katja. The more I saw her in nature the more I knew we shared this love for the divinity of creation. I enjoyed the way she pushed me to the limit as well – I could feel my legs get a real workout as I kept up with her. She really was good for me.
As we returned home I held her hand all the way back, even in rush hour traffic. I did not want to lose her. That evening Katja said she would have a surprise for me, but I had to wait until Thursday. I laughed and asked if it had anything to do with something physical ending, but she got an embarrassed look and replied, “No, but that too. I have something to give you that I have been working on when you have been away.”
That evening I headed off to the club a bit more certain that I had done the right thing with Katja, even though I knew we had strong personalities that would probably come into conflict from time to time. Strange though, I only then realized that it was Wednesday night and I had not been in touch with my family. I would have to make sure I repented the next day.
Upon arrival I was surprised by a bouquet of flowers in the dressing room with my name on a card. I opened it up and read it, “To my best dancer!” It was signed by Nazir. That night Nazir checked me out several times while I was on stage and seemed to be giving me that “interested” look. Maybe this was my chance to discover what was below the surface here. Then, around 10pm, while I was sitting with some men and chatting, I noticed the cop, Craig Meyers, come in! While I was confident that nobody could possibly recognize who I really was, I still hoped he would not look my direction. He was talking with Adlan and then they disappeared into the performance room. When they came out Meyers pointed to the Eurasian girl and then the two men seemed to begin what appeared as a bartering session. When done Adlan motioned for the girl to approach them…they spoke…and then she rushed back into the dressing room. She soon came out and left with Meyers.
While flirting with guys and dancing I noticed that Adlan approached Nazir, pointed to me and then to Tiffanie who was entertaining at another table, and then walked back to the entrance. Nazir approached me, “Hope you liked the flowers. I will need help at the bar so if you could pour drinks for the guests I have to watch the entrance since Adlan has to leave.” I asked, “Uh, are you sure it is okay since I have no bartending license?” He shook his head, “No man here is going to ask for your license. Besides, where would you carry it?” He said this as he glanced over my unclothed body and grinned.
As I served customers desiring to numb their brains with alcohol I felt that it was all worth it – the degradation and all, if I could find out what was going on with Meyers. When Nazir resumed serving drinks I asked Tiffanie what the name of the Eurasian girl was. She said it was Svetlana, and that she had started working just a couple of months ago. Tiffanie then said she believed she was one of the girls at the low end of the scale who did the “real” special performances. I asked, “Just what do girls do for those performances?” Tiffanie shook her head and grabbed my arm, “I am not totally sure, but from what I understand never, ever, and I mean it…never so much as ask the Zagrievs what goes on, okay?” I nodded my head – I was curious though.
When it was time to go home Nazir reminded me of Monday night, and that I was off the next evening. He then said asked something odd in a really nice tone, “Would you be willing to come in anyway and just hang out with me? I’ll order something nice to be delivered
and we can have dinner together.” I accepted the offer which seemed to please him very much.
When I arrived back at the apartment I was anxious to tell Katja about Myers as well as Nazir. When I explained everything that happened that evening she noted, “It sounds as if Nazir likes you.” She was obviously right and I would exploit that. She also said, “I’ll try to get to know this Svetlana girl and see what I can find out.” At that I asked, “So what is the surprise you promised?” She said, “Oh you will see, in the morning.”
When I woke up Katja was already out of bed. I called out for her and she replied, “Just wait in there a moment Melanie!” She then requested, “Close your eyes until I say when!” I complied and a moment later she sat down at my side, gave me a soft kiss, and said, “You can open your eyes now.”
When I did I saw her surprise – before me was a large canvas with a painting of me. It was gorgeous – she had drawn me with a fantasy wilderness background, clothed in a glowing silver gown, completely transparent, but still something I would have no problem with displaying in my living room. She then looked at me and asked, “Do you like it my darling?” I said I loved it and she held me in a warm embrace. I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were painting a picture of me?” She laughed, “I wanted to surprise you.”
Needless to say the rest of the morning was spent in showing appreciation and passion for one another. Then, as we lay there, enjoying just being together, I could not help myself from asking, “Katja, where do you see yourself in ten years?” In a soft voice she replied, “Just like this, with you by my side.” At that very moment I vowed to myself that she would be and ran through my mind how I would accomplish that goal.
Many times that day I was drawn to the portrait. I did not know how she did it but she captured my spirit in that painting. Nobody had ever really done that in such a way and I really appreciated her for it. I even questioned if I were doing the right thing – putting her at risk in our undercover investigation. A part of me really toyed with starting a new life; Katja, Matt and Nicole, and the children of course, but far from Portland. Yet I repressed these thoughts as best as I could – after all, we had come this far and maybe, in the end, everything would work out perfectly.
On the way to the club I informed Katja of the performance for Monday. She laughed and said she looked forward to it, “I guess it is good money and I certainly enjoy my co-star.” I sort of forgot about the reason we were doing this in the first place and agreed with her. It then hit me that I was really looking forward to Monday as well. On top of that I was beginning to enjoy the dancing and working the audience – something I would never had imagine thinking a month earlier. I even fantasized about what it would be like to do this as my main profession. I asked Katja, “Do you enjoy working at the club?” She replied, “You really want to know? Yeah, I do.”
When we arrived Katja went to work and Nazir asked me to sit at the corner table. He came over to me after about twenty minutes and said, “My brothers are in charge tonight. I can finally talk with you.” I wondered what he had in mind but then he said, “Amber, I can see in your eyes you are a complex woman. You are also a smart woman. Like I said, you are not like these Russian cows…I can see that. I can see as well you are smarter than some hillbilly like Tiffanie. I can see that.” I thanked him and he started telling me of his life. He said he had grown up in Chechnya, and that is why he hated Russians. When he said that I could not help but note, “You say you hate Russians but most of your employees are Russian.” He laughed and moved close to me as if to relay a secret, “Do not take offense, I know your girlfriend is Russian, but how many of these women will make more Russians?” I looked at him inquisitively and he elaborated, “Some Russian village girl who would have married and made a family just helps Russia stay strong. These women will spend their baby-making days whoring for a living. When their beauty fades away they will just be used-up women, no family, nothing. I am on the front lines of chipping away at Russian power. You are too as I doubt you will ever get your girlfriend Petra pregnant.”
I looked at him as he took an arrogant pleasure in his efforts to eradicate Russians and asked, “Do you consider me a whore?” Without hesitation he smiled, touched my hand with his, and said, “No, you are different. You are here to make money for your baby. You are better, and deserve more.” As he said that a man in a nice suit came in to deliver our dinner. While he arranged the food before us Nazir explained, “This is fine lamb and vegetables made the way we in the Caucasus Mountains prepare it. Please do enjoy.”
Nazir apparently spent a lot of money for this experience. I have to admit it felt strange being dressed and part of the audience, especially when Katja was performing. Yet stranger than that feeling of being the spectator, or better yet a voyeur, were the topics we discussed. Nazir appeared to take a strong interest in international politics and economics. The latter was not my favorite subject, as I was not an expert in the field, but it was enjoyable to interact with him despite his obvious hatred of both Western ideals, which he called anti-God, and Russians.
I had to make sure I did not come across too educated though, and cause suspicion, so I pretended to have only limited knowledge of the topics he discussed. However, I showed him undivided attention and interest no matter what he talked about. Towards closing time, when Katja was paired off with some girl I had not seen before, Nazir asked, “Look at her, is she what you want for the rest of your life? Russian women do not have a soul, they are pretty but they are empty. Do you want your baby growing up with such an influence?” I was more than angry as he ridiculed Katja but saw an opportunity opening. I responded by shrugging my shoulders and replying, “I don’t know…she seems nice…nicer than most men I have encountered in my life.” Nazir leaned forward and looked me in the eyes, and then pointed at the men at various tables and said, in a disgusted tone, “I believe you. Those are American men. Put a uniform on them and a give them a tank and they believe they are invincible. They are not. These are the men who you have been surrounded by. They are not men. They are weak and have less soul than a Russian. They would rather look at porn and drink beer than live by God’s laws. At least Russians have not had everything served to them all their lives. Yes your men are lower than dogs!”
I would have been a liar if I had told him I disagreed with all of what he said. I nodded my head. He then apologized, “I am sorry for insulting your people. And please forgive me for what I said about your girlfriend. I sense you love her, but think about what I have said.” I smiled, reached out and held his hand. He just looked at me and smiled.
Before Katja’s shift was over Nazir thanked me for a wonderful evening and said Katja could go home early if I wanted to leave. I thanked him and as I stood up to go tell Katja he reached out and touched my right arm. Taking the chance, as he stood, I put my arms around his neck in a relaxed manner and just looked at him. Taking the initiative he gave me a kiss, intimate, but not too much a show for the remaining patrons of the bar. He asked, in an assertive voice, “Would you and Petra be interested in a night on the town next week? Perhaps Adlan can accompany your friend?” I asked what night and he said, “You and Petra are performing Monday evening, so why not Tuesday?” I replied, “I see no problem, I will ask Petra and I am sure it will be fine.” Nazir thanked me for the evening and said he would see me the next evening for my shift.
I went back stage and asked Katja if she would like to leave. She quickly gathered her belongings and we sped away in the car. Yet just as we got onto Interstate 5, I asked her, “Katja, please just keep driving. I want to head to some hot springs down by Oakridge. Follow my directions and later we can get a hotel room if you like.” Katja laughed and said it sounded like a fun idea. We stopped at a grocery store, bought some pre-cooked chicken and fries, a flashlight and a couple of dish towels, nothing bigger was available, and we were off.
On the way down I told her all about the conversation with Nazir as well as the kiss. She was fuming m
ad at his comments about Russians, but seemed to agree with him about American men. I then informed her of the date we would have on Tuesday and she sighed and said, “Whatever it takes.” She then informed me that the girl I had seen take off with Meyers, the Svetlana girl, was scheduled to work on Friday and she would do her best to establish a friendship with her so as to find out what she could.
Once we arrived at the springs it was almost 2:30 in the morning. There was a full moon and we got out and headed down the trail. A stick broke off in the distance and Katja grabbed me by the waist. I tried to assure her that she was in no danger, and that it was probably just a deer. She replied, “Yes, I believe you. You are my forest nymph after all.” I remembered the painting and hoped I was right about there being no cougars, bears, or any human predators, near us. Of course, that was not totally true, but Katja did not have to know everything about her new love. We spent an hour or so in the water, marveling at the beauty of the evening – the moon’s reflection on the rapids of the near-by river as well as the water in the hot spring, the blue-black silhouette of the mountains surrounding us, and of course each other. It felt as though we were indeed in some fairy wonderland, alone together and far away from the world. We both were tired though, and so we stopped in Oakridge at a little hotel and fell asleep in each other’s arms almost immediately upon getting in bed.
The next day we left the hotel around noon, ate at a little café, and took our time getting back to Portland. We made several stops so we could hike around. When we arrived in Eugene near 4pm I had her take a small detour into a run-down section of west Eugene. When we came to the little house I had lived in where Tommy Fitzpatrick and I had been assaulted by the bully I looked at Katja and asked, “If you are okay with it can I tell you more about my childhood as we go back to Portland?” She took my hand and said she wanted to hear every detail.
Descent Into Darkness Page 21