Kill Cupid: Internet dating just got dangerous

by Best, J. Brandon

  Women have a way of asking the most in depth questions offering the most possibilities for answers open to multiple interpretations, about subjects men are least capable of answering directly nor in words the woman will comprehend Bronte thought.

  Sitting on a stone park bench in a field of perovskia or Russian sage, the time had arrived to confront all that meeting Zhana brought. They had been thrown together in a blender, whipped into a grossly sordid ordeal and now faced the bitter or sweet of this cocktail of events. Already it had the flavour of a stark reality TV show, where not too many couples meet in adversity and come out married. Maybe a lack of romance and courtship devalues the true worth of hardship, but now he sensed more of a mercenary bond with Zhana than passion. She might be questioning feelings and possibilities at present, but he feared deep down nothing would change. It was a sad consequence of their meeting and the subsequent chain of events that he should feel strangely numb.

  ‘Are you okay? What do you feel about everything… and me?’ Zhana asked.

  ‘Yes, I’m okay. I was thinking how ironic it is that we have this conversation in this place, that’s all…’

  ‘Why? Where’s the irony in this place?’

  ‘Because sitting here reminds me of an old war tale.’

  ‘Which is..?’

  ‘The story says, for the want of a nail, the shoe was lost. For the want of a shoe, the horse was lost. For the want of a horse, the rider was lost. For the want of a rider, the message was lost. For the want of a message, the battle was lost. For the want of a battle, the war was lost. For the want of a war, the kingdom was lost. And it was all for the want of a nail.’

  ‘That’s great, but what’s that got to do with us?’

  ‘For us my dear, it was the lack of an email that our love was lost. Had you received even one of my letters after you left the agency, or had I received one of yours…’

  ‘I see… but you still haven’t answered my question.’ He looked at her curiously, ‘So where does that leave us… in your opinion?’

  ‘I thought you knew what I wanted? I came to your country for one reason, and that was to be here, with you right now, alone and together. God knows I wish I could erase all the details that have brought us to this place… and fill in the gaps with an entirely different tale of love, where the course ran smoothly… but I can’t. After all that has happened, I am not even sure what to think…’ They sat in silence until Bronte added ‘But Zhana, I also believe I should put myself in Willy’s shoes when considering your question. From a male’s perspective, I can imagine what he must be feeling right now… and I wouldn’t wish to be in his place, especially if I was about to receive the Dear Willy letter.’ Zhana looked at the ground when he mentioned Willy. She brushed hair from her face and then said abruptly,

  ‘Meaning what?’

  ‘Meaning that maybe what you have started with Willy is worthwhile. You’ve both invested much time and effort into it I’m sure. Unlike you and me, there has been no lack of a nail in your relationship with him. I suppose I should say Willy beat me to the prize and… quite a prize I might add. Having said all that, I wish it could be… but somehow, wreaking havoc on your love life with Willy just isn’t my way.’ There was another period of prolonged silence from a rather glum looking Zhana. ‘Zhana look at me…’

  When she turned, he took her face gently in his hands and kissed her. It had to happen sooner than later. All the ingredients were right; her mood, the emotionally charged events and his hidden desire. And kissing for the first time made sense. Suddenly the pieces all fit, the picture clear and complete. Bronte and Zhana sat locked together like their last moment on earth before the end of the world. Rita could get her wish for holocaust now and neither would care. They could all join Tanya in divine oblivion.

  Then suddenly she pulled away. She looked at him with deep, dark eyes and tears crept free and trickled down her cheeks. Boy soldiers ran past on their way to rescue colleagues from the evil attacking Americans. Strange world.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Willy took the first available Lufthansa flight to Moscow and then paid out the nose to take the next flight to Krasnodar. He had no idea what Zhana’s reaction to seeing him might be. Hoping to witness the situation first hand, he’d withheld informing her of his arrival. Though he wanted to believe her, he had no preconception of what he’d say if she had been honest. And least of all what he’d do if indeed he caught her with the Australian. He’d contemplated taking a baseball bat with him, but he didn’t own one. And he was no Steven Segal when it came to physical encounters. He only knew he was going to put an end to this shit, no matter what it was he discovered when he got to Zhana’s place. His nerves were on end, especially since he’d been harsh and hard with her on the phone. Anyway, going there would be the best way to smooth things over - if she had been truthful. It would be well into the evening when he arrived, so he knew one thing for sure. He was about to find the truth however sweet or hard to swallow it might be. He walked straight through the Krasnodar terminal to find a cab. He carried only a small bag - and her ring. He wondered if he’d give it to her with love or whether he’d throw it at her. Or if he returned with it, would the old jeweller give him a refund? That at least would cover the costs he’d just incurred to get there. He passed her written address through the window to the lazy, unfriendly looking cabbie. The guy turned in his seat and opened the rear door from the inside, signalling with grunts for Willy to get in. They’d be there in around ten minutes.

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  Back in the apartment, Tanya appeared to have gone on strike or at least was off cooking duty. Zhana had given up calling Willy though she seemed perturbed his phone was switched off. Bronte was feeling like the entire trip had suddenly been worthwhile. There was a newfound closeness between him and Zhana, evidenced by the subtle touches and smiles. Predictably, this was sensed by Tanya and no doubt accounted for her remote mood. He noticed she’d gone to lie on the bed. His attempted words of wisdom and justice for Willy earlier in the park had done little to forge the brother and sister relationship with Zhana. The kiss had meant so much more and he knew it. She was sitting on Bronte’s knee when they heard the gate to the property open and close, then the loud rap on the door.

  ‘Who the hell is that?’ Zhana asked, jumping to her feet.

  ‘Struth… sounds like the cops… who you expecting?’ Bronte replied, ‘Only the cops knock like that…’ Zhana reluctantly opened the door.

  ‘Willy!’ Zhana exclaimed. ‘My god… come in… what a surprise my dear!’ She kissed the rigid, cranky and stressed German. Bronte sat glued to his seat at the table as Astro-girl emerged from the bedroom, her eyes and expression saying it all.

  ‘What the hell is going on here?’ Willy said looking a lot less than happy. ‘What’s he still doing here…’ nodding his head in Bronte’s direction.

  ‘Darling… come in please… sit down… its all okay, just as I said. We can explain everything.’ She threw her arms around him. Bronte stood offering a handshake.

  ‘Hi Willy… I’m Bronte…’ Damn, just when things were looking up. This was suddenly a whole lot more than a three ring circus. It was three at the circus with a ring.

  ‘What are you doing here with my woman?’

  ‘That’s a long story, but it’s just like Zhana tried to explain on the phone…’

  ‘Darling why didn’t you tell me you were coming?’ Zhana asked, almost patting Willy like a troubled pet.

  ‘I’m not here with your woman Willy… despite what you think or how it looks…’ Bronte added.

  ‘That’s not what I understand…. That’s not what I see.’ Willy looked like he’d aged about ten years since the photo taken with Zhana Bronte had seen on the fridge.

  ‘Darling honestly… come on, relax… sit down please. We will explain all…’ Bronte noticed Tanya discreetly remove his photo from the side of the fr
idge and slip it into the television room. ‘Please… sit down… let me get you a drink’ Zhana said cuddling her stiff, cold fiancé as he straddled the chair opposite Bronte. Tanya re-emerged from the bedroom and sat on Bronte’s lap which had an immediate placating effect. Willy seemed relieved all of a sudden. What a smart, good friend Bronte thought. Zhana then began to relate the entire saga, all the way back to their initial contact including correspondence with Bronte. Willy barely said a word the entire time until,

  ‘Well it sounds like this bitch Alessiya has just cost me about five hundred euros. Everyone at work thinks I am ill…’ He looked stressed and relieved at the same time.

  ‘She’s cost me a lot more than that, Willy… you don’t know the half of it…’ Bronte stated wearily.

  ‘I’m sorry I was rude on the phone my darling,’ Willy said sadly to Zhana.

  ‘It’s okay, I understand… We were both unkind…’ Damn! Bronte thought.

  ‘Sorry for all your trouble Bronte’ Willy eventually conceded.

  ‘Forget it Willy, that’s life… how’s your health by the way…?’

  ‘Huh? My health?’

  ‘Bronte, cut it out…’ Zhana giggled. After some red wine and a few vodkas the pair of reunited lovers disappeared into the bedroom. Zhana back on track with Willy, Bronte and Tanya decided to get out of there and go dancing.

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  While they danced back to back, she had eye to eye contact with another man. The stranger was with a good looking woman, so it was fun for her to see if she could get more of his attention than his girlfriend. She couldn’t help herself; it was the staple diet of her craving ego. It had become a part of her personality and psyche from years of well rehearsed practice. When the music stopped momentarily, he said,

  ‘Let’s sit down, I’m all danced out …How about another drink?’

  ‘No, let’s go home. We only have another day before you go… and so little time to do it all. I want you three times tonight.’

  ‘Oh Oly, please… you kill me – okay let’s go!’ After Joey collected their things and passed through the crowd, she watched for the appropriate moment and then smiled as a last flirt with the stranger.

  Poor Joey, he was a decent, nice enough young man from Orange County. He had been married to a lazy and spoiled local girl who wanted to live the five star life of a desperate housewife. Her self-appointed job was to stay home and make sure that when he got in from a hard day’s work, her nails were perfect. How Joey met Alessiya was her secret and how she was duping him to fund her life was also her secret, though he was well aware of her exciting methods. She had already explained how difficult it was to answer his letters promptly and in a more personal manner because she had to use an agency and had no computer of her own. After he got home, he would send her six hundred dollars for her own computer. After that, she couldn’t hit him for the fifty every month, but the money she’d supposedly use to buy it was twelve months agency fees anyway. She’d also weaselled him into committing to send six hundred every month for her living expenses and he apologized he could not afford to send more. He worked in computers and the pay was not so good after YK2000.

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  Tanya took Bronte to an intriguing bar, about a ten minute walk from Zhana’s place. How they crowded in so many people and how noisy it was inside was mind boggling. They found a small table and after almost climbing over people who couldn’t be bothered moving, Tanya ordered a flask of vodka. Surprising, given she had declined all offers of alcohol on prior occasions, even wine with dinner at home. Holding the first shot aloft for the toast, to his greater surprise she shouted over the din of music and people,

  ‘You know tradition for couple who meet for first time and wish to know their compatibility for marriage?’

  ‘Ha. Does this tradition have three criteria? Please tell me there are four’.

  ‘No… why?’ She looked at Bronte curiously then continued yelling.

  ‘First, they must drink vodka and that is because alcohol loosens a man’s tongue and he will speak truth or folly and prove to be happy or angry.’

  ‘I see…’

  ‘Next, they must play cards together, as this will show if man or woman is shrewd or a risk taker, a cheat or honest and a good or sore loser.’

  ‘Okay, interesting …next?’

  ‘Last, they should go shopping together. Doing this proves if man is miserly or generous and woman is spoiled and greedy.’ She finished, sat back and indicated Bronte should refill the small shot glasses. She was probably all yelled out.

  ‘And the fourth? What’s next?’ He screamed, refilling the small glasses. It was a racket in there.

  ‘Excuse me? I don’t know a fourth one, I think there is no number four.’

  ‘There is… last is they must have sex... wild sex. My version was revised in the 1990’s!’

  ‘I think you watched too much “Sex in the City” Tanya laughed. After a couple of hours and two spectacular, exotic dance floor shows they left for home. Probably to play cards, he thought.

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  The next morning, Bronte said goodbye with a handshake and a pat on the back. It was tough, but he had to admit Willy was a likeable guy. Quiet but decent, Bronte couldn’t wish to see him suffer the pain of broken dreams and promises had he stolen Zhana. She and Willy left for the airport at 7am and with them, all glimmer of hope for a new beginning with Bronte. Instead, her hand now glimmered with her engagement ring. Zhana shared her bed with Willy while Bronte had slept with Tanya, although he kept his hands to himself. Somehow nothing else seemed appropriate, especially knowing there was another couple lying only two metres away. He was literally that close, then again, that far away from winning Zhana. He sat at the table pretending not to be depressed when Tanya spoke.

  ‘You must go tomorrow? It is very sad.’ Her big green eyes asked so much more.

  ‘Yes, I must go Tanya. I have a very long flight home. It takes almost two full days.’

  ‘What time is your flight?’

  ‘I must leave Krasnodar this evening… I fly to Moscow, wait through the night, then on to Germany, Asia and Australia.’

  ‘My goodness… so many countries... And what time do you leave Krasnodar?’

  ‘I’m not sure exactly, I don’t recall. I suppose I should check my ticket.’

  When Zhana arrived home from farewelling Willy, Bronte was already throwing things from his luggage and attempting to recite as many bad words in English as he knew the girls could in Russian.

  ‘The bloody bitch has stolen my ticket!’

  ‘What do you mean? How could she do that?’ Zhana looked dumbfounded while Tanya stood shaking her head in disbelief, looking more animated by the second.

  ‘Simple. They looked through my travel wallet when I was holed up in the bathroom at the agency. I checked to make sure all was intact later, but didn’t actually look inside my itinerary for the ticket. Bitch!’

  ‘That’s just great! What can you do now?’

  ‘Try to get another ticket before tomorrow evening. The bitch will cost me more... again! So much for the $500 I got back.’

  ‘This is crazy… Willy just spent hundreds for nothing because of her’ Zhana said, looking at Bronte without the glimmer in her eyes he’d sensed the day before.

  ‘And she almost cost you Willy’ Tanya stated, adding accelerant to the fires already smouldering on two fronts. ‘What can we do about this woman? We have to stop her or this could go on and on…’

  ‘On and on to what?’ Zhana said. ‘What will be next? She’ll probably try to burn my house down at night, or run me over in a late night hit and run.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so’ Bronte replied, doing his best to appear positive regardless of whether he believed what he was
saying. ‘I think it’s a petty revenge thing for her because she lost. And remember she took the ticket days back. Alessiya played me until we caught her at her game. I think you’ll find her fire will go out after I leave… then things will return to normal. While I am here and we are in her face she’s bent on offence but after I’m gone, she will forget about it. You’ll be okay, I am sure of it. She’ll be too busy scamming other men.’

  ‘God… I can only hope… Willy’s creating a new email address that only he and I will know. He’ll send me the login and password by sms, so that’ll put an end to people hacking my mail at least.’

  ‘She’ll get her own back… and I reckon she already has… you’ll see, she won’t get away with this. People like Alessiya have yet to figure out that the earth rotates every twenty four hours. Where they stand and what they do today, comes back to either bite them on the ass or propel them one day ahead tomorrow.’ Bronte wanted to wring Alessiya’s neck, but he knew there was little he could do. She had not stopped him getting out of the country but rather added some expense and a decent dose of the nuisance factor. And it worked a treat. If she was going to go out of pocket, she’d make sure he did too. This way, the airlines would take his money, a moral victory of sorts.

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  The rest of the day was an exercise in patience, trying to organise new airline tickets. There were no available seats from Krasnodar back to Moscow and the local Aeroflot office was not in a position to reissue a duplicate ticket. The woman explained a new one would have to be bought then a refund sent later after a lost ticket application had been filed. She didn’t smile the entire time. Good luck getting money out of the airline, sonny.