by Anthology
***
Erik. It somehow suited the soldier that sat next to her in the hotel bar. A simple name, for a simple man. He cocked his head and gave her a crooked dimpled grin that would cause a lesser woman to go googly-eyed. But Sophie was made of sterner stuff, although she'd have to have her glasses off and the lights out in order not to notice how handsome the Russian was.
It didn’t help that his eyes were like no other she had ever seen. An icy grey with a slight undertone of blue, like the turbulent currents of the Bering Strait. Beautiful, if one could call them that on an intimidating Soviet soldier. Her own eyes trailed carefully over his face as he turned to take a sip from the whiskey glass in front of him. A solid lantern jaw that was clean- shaven despite his undoubtedly long and tiring journey. Everything was topped by a fascinating peek at salt and pepper hair she could see from under his cap. The weathered skin, along with the numerous insignia on his uniform indicated that this was no young buck, but a seasoned man.
“You are here for the conference?”
“Da.”
As was Sophie. Entire pods of grey whales were disappearing off the coast to the north of Russia. The conference would address the issue. The greys were everything to her. From a very young age she had wanted to be like her father, who left for months at a time, sending her photographs of the whale pods he was observing. During those rare times he was home, he would take her out onto the beach, and together they would sit for hours and watch the whales go by. It had been a natural choice in college, especially when the whales had been listed on the critical endangered list from all the whaling in the last few decades. She looked at the man next to her. Could their respective countries come up with a solution?
“So, is this your first time in the states?”
He nodded. It made sense. Glasnost had just begun last year, only 500 Russians had been allowed short trips to the “Western world.”
“So what is the most capitalist thing you’ve done so far?”
He leaned forward, Sophie catching a hint of spicy aftershave and clean, vital man. She watched excitedly as his eyes darted around the room in a conspirator like fashion. “Can you keep a secret? This is very important to keep secret, Sophie.”
She leaned even closer, feeling her heart jump as her knees brushed against his. What was he going to tell her? “Yes. Yes, Erik, of course I can keep a secret.” She whispered it while scanning the room with wide eyes. “What is it?”
“I went to McDonalds.” He nodded sagely while Sophie felt her jaw drop in shock. Right before she began to laugh harder than she has I a long time.
***
Her sides hurt she had been laughing so hard, and it felt completely magical! Sophie couldn't believe her luck as they walked the riverfront of Portland. Here she was, talking and laughing with a handsome, exotic stranger who seemed to be just as into her as she was into him. As he spoke of the dock in his home town she couldn't help but look at his lips, so sensual and full, yet hard and proud, perfect for a man like him. And what sort of man was he? A simple soldier with an easy laugh and a frequent smile who had “pulled on her legs” several times that evening, as though he didn't have a care in the world. She would have thought a serious minded academic, who was anti-war, would be more suited to her. Of course that was what the last guy had been and look how well that had ended up.
Sophie pushed the thoughts of him to the back of her mind as she focused on what Erik was saying. His eyes lit up as he described the Friday fish market and she could almost smell the sea salt in the air, seagulls swooping down from above, ready to grab up the smallest crumb from the passing villagers.
“It sounds a lot like my little home town on the coast …” she murmured, lost in thoughts of her home while comparing it to his.
“So you are not from Portland?”
“No, I’m from a small town called Depoe Bay, where we happen to be going on our press trip tomorrow. It’s the best place in the state to see my baby greys. We might even see my little pink cabin, right on the beach.”
“Pink house?”
“My mother loved the color, when she passed away, I couldn’t bear to change it. Now it’s the only one on the whole coast.” She gave a smile as her thoughts traveled for a moment to the coast, as though she would feel herself breathe again for the first time in a long while. The city had been slowly suffocating her as she was used to small coastal town life, much like Erik had spoken of only a moment ago. She looked back at the weathered man who walked with such confidence and ease and she realized that today was the first day she had felt completely fine in this city.
As though reading her mind, Erik looked over at her then over her head to sweep his eyes over the Rose City. “So what do you like about here?”
You. Walking along the Willamette with you. Probably not the right answer, she decided.
“The lights of the bridges on the water, the ships coming in and out every day. The new buildings popping up everywhere.”
She smiled, looking over the river toward the big cranes that were currently asleep. During the day they were constructing the new convention center, with its crystal towers that looked like something out of science fiction. “Occasionally you can find something beautiful in the most urban of spaces. It’s like finding a diamond in the rough.”
“Yes, there are some beautiful things, sometimes hidden within what at first looks ordinary.” His voice registered in a lower scale.
She turned her face away from the view to shyly look up into the tall man’s eyes. He had removed his cap after they had gone a few blocks from the hotel but he still looked so imposingly big, so overwhelming. And entirely man. His hand reached out to grab a stray lock of her hair that had once again escaped her banana clip. He caressed the soft strands before carefully tucking them behind her ear gazing deep into her eyes.
She wanted to be a brave woman, lean forward and taste his lips, but instead she broke eye contact and looked down toward the ground, kicking a rock out of her way. No one had ever looked at her like that. Not even that rat, Nate. He was what the glasses were for. Protection, so no one could see her, see into her again. No one could hurt her again. But this man seemed to look right through them, as though the frames held no glass inside. It was disconcerting, and slightly exciting.
Sophie shivered as a cool, humid breeze blew in from the port. Almost immediately she was draped in a heavy, wool, Soviet coat, one that was so warm and comforting. She caught his scent wafting from the fabric, and almost closed her eyes as she inhaled. God he was exciting, and different from any man she had met. If only she was the type to take advantage of this chemistry, perfect for a quick torrid affair, before he had to slip back behind the Iron Curtain, disappearing from her life. No risk, no possibility of hurt.
***
Erik felt a wave of heat pulling him closer to her. Without much thought he tucked her under his arm, then thrilled at the feeling of her cuddling in closer to his side. It was a juxtaposition of feelings for him, the combination of the attraction he felt building toward this woman and his equal need to keep this professional. This could never form into anything serious. He was only here for a few short days. Yet as her hair blew in the evening breeze to tickle at his cheek, Erik felt this was more real than any of the forced introductions he’d had to younger sisters of party wives, vetted for their loyalty to the state first. He pushed Russia from his mind. Now it was just him and this real, fascinating woman. One who reminded him so much of another …
A damp breeze blew in and he felt Sophie pull her arm around his back to cuddle in closer. He had the overwhelming urge to bury his nose in her hair, to kiss her on her forehead, slide his lips along her jaw, taste that point in her skin right where her smile began, but he stifled his urges just as professional soldier should.
Something inside him whispered at him to be honest, to say what he meant, to feel free to speak. What was the West for if not to take a taste of freedom?
"Sophie, do you feel lik
e this is different?”
“What do you mean?” She looked up at him with a crinkle in her nose and Erik tightened his grasp on his hat to keep from tickling her there, just above the bridge of her glasses.
Erik’s hand fell gently to her shoulder while the other tossed his hat onto a nearby bench. Her eyes seemed to shine, reflecting the bridge lights. He didn't know how to word what was inside him. He was programmed to simply hold it all in, guarding his emotions behind his stoic soldier exterior. So he decided not to use words.
Sliding his hand up from her shoulder to her jaw line, while his other hand cupped the back of her head, he heard Sophie take a deep breath in, her lips parted, slightly trembling. She was irresistible to him, and even as her eyes held a moment of fear and doubt, likely her quick brain thinking of their impossible situation, her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, blushing a soft pink, and he knew she wanted this taste as much as he did.
***
It was a jolt, straight to her extremities as Erik’s lips touched, experimentally, once, then twice before settling on hers. The feeling zipped along her spine then travelled back up to her brain where she swore she saw a burst of light, as though she had been carrying a small bulb in her head that had never been lit before. She wanted to examine this, postulate on her feelings, but was pulled out of the scientist brain as his kiss deepened. Now was the time for living, not thinking. And besides, those lips of his were talented enough to melt her thoughts to mush.
She nuzzled closer, images behind her closed lids flashing. Being wrapped in a blanket with this man, watching the tides at the beach, a picnic at their feet, right before they made love …
“What have we here?” It was a sultry southern feminine voice coming from behind Sophie’s head and she jumped back in surprise. She knew that voice. It spoke to her through her television every night. Pamela Powers, reporter extraordinaire for KATU ten o’clock news. Sophie felt her face turning red, while Erik looked up at their intruder. She felt the rush of cold as he backed away. Some tiny voice in her head wanted to shout for him to come back.
The voice continued. “Boy, if only I had my camera man with me. Naughty Soviet soldier caught canoodling his first night in Portland.” Sophie heard the clicks of tall heels coming toward them.
Sophie turned around to see the glamorous, big haired redhead walking ever closer with a pleased look on her face. And of course she was kitted out as usual in a sophisticated yellow suit that showed just a peak of cleavage
Her makeup was flawless, although a bit too day glow for Sophie’s taste. She looked at the clicking heels, sky high and bright pink. She couldn’t help comparing her sea turtle socks. A look of surprise popped onto the reporter’s face as she took another step closer to the odd couple.
“My stars! This would have been one heck of a coup! Damn my camera man and his smoke breaks.” Pamela pointed a bright pink talon right at Erik’s face. “I recognize you, handsome. Doctor Erik Zacrevsky, lead biologist from the USSR, here for the whaling conference.”
***
Sophie felt her stomach drop while she felt as if a bucket of ice cold water splashed her in the face. Dr. Zacrevsky! Erik was Dr. Zacrevsky!? The dreaded Doctor she had been writing back and forth with for the last few months, arguing about the need for the scientific community to be granted access to the Novaya Zemlya Islands. During their correspondence she had been picturing some crusty old scientist with bushy eyebrows and a nasty snarl. Something akin to an evil genius, not this gorgeous smiling man she had just kissed!
Sophie felt the red creeping back up her neck, the embarrassment mixed in with a healthy dose of frustration. She couldn’t continue anything with this man. He was a colleague, a contemporary, and so much more than just a grunt. She took another look at Pamela but she was too busy eyeing the man in front of her to ever take notice of some geeky chick next to him. Erik seemed to be equally entranced.
Sophie let out an impatient huff, pushed her glasses up her nose, and promptly started her walk back to the hotel.
***
Erik was bombarded by the bustling reporter who seemed to fill up his entire personal space with her fast talking and French perfume. The bright colors distracted his eyes while he struggled to keep up with all that had happened. He snapped out of his inertia as a pink claw ran down his arm. That wasn’t Sophie’s short, blunt, practical fingernails. He looked around for her but it was as if she had vanished into thin air. Perhaps she was embarrassed about being caught in the compromising situation? And she still had his jacket on. She couldn’t go back to the hotel wearing it. There would be too many questions.
“Uh, Ms. Powers, I’d love to talk more tomorrow but it is late. Now if you will excuse me, I must catch up with my, uh, colleague.”
He stepped around the smirking reporter who crossed her arms in front of her. “Colleague, right.”
***
Looking up and down the streets and alleys, Erik made his way back toward the hotel, wondering how Sophie could have made such a clean escape. Surely she hadn’t made it back in yet?
Erik heard a whistle and turned his head toward an alley with only a single flare of a cigarette blazing lighting the inky blackness. He took a cautious step.
“Erik, idi syuda.” He saw the red glowing light beckon him into the dark even as he recognized the voice. As his eyes adjusted he saw the older scientist with his jacket in his hand.
“Ah, spasebo, Doctor Oromolov.”
“Da.” The older gentleman took a drag on his cigarette as he handed Erik back his jacket. “I stopped her at the door. She was in such a hurry. I don’t think anyone saw.”
“Thank you, again.” Erik pulled the big jacket on, smelling the flowery scent she had left on the fabric. “Now I must catch up to her.” He nodded and began to walk away but Doctor Ormolov put a gentle hand on to his shoulder.
“Erik, I have seen this look on your face before. Please, be careful, da?”
Erik nodded briefly, putting his own hand over the Doctor’s in an affectionate manner. Then he moved toward the bright entrance of the hotel, worried that perhaps the time to be careful had already passed.
***
What a day this had turned out to be, Sophie thought, as she plopped her head into her hands. It was the morning after her infamous moment of shame and the rain was coming down in sheets that flew sideways as the gusts of wind blew in from the icy Pacific. The boat was tipping and unsteady on the angry white waves, and those who weren’t used to being on the sea, were currently taking permanent residence in the bathrooms, sicker than dogs.
They hadn’t seen one whale the entire day. On the plus side, she also hadn’t seen Erik since she saw him boarding one of the buses that had taken them to the coast earlier in the day. She’d forgotten her Walkman back in the room and now she was forced to listen to Pamela complaining about the lack of whales along with her sea sickness. Sophie was contemplating throwing the reporter overboard when she felt a touch on her shoulder.
Turning, she looked back to see a pair of blue eyes below a soaking Soviet cap. Great, my day is now complete. A spotting of the crusty, not so old Dr. Z. She had referred to Erik as that in secret during their correspondence, mostly due to the fact that his long winded arguments made her want to catch some Z’s. She felt a smile tilt up a corner of her lips. Erik must have caught the expression as his eyes mirrored it with a mischievous smile of his own. He motioned with his head for her to follow then put his fingers to his lips. Well, it was him or Pamela, currently reapplying her bright orange lipstick. No contest really. Perhaps she could talk some more with him about her arguments for the island. He reached back to take her reluctant hand as he carefully weaved around the ship, avoiding the others milling about before he slipped towards a staircase with a rope across it marked “Crew only.”
Erik pulled his long legs over the sign, then helped the shorter Sophie, who shot him arrows with her eyes as he wrapped his hands around her waist. He found a quiet corner on th
e lower deck that gave a lovely view of the ocean while being partially sheltered from the rain. The wind whipped up from the side of the boat and Sophie adjusted her scarf, then elbowed Erik as he tried to pull her closer to him. She had decided last night that this would stay professional. No hanky-panky for her. Oh, no, siree.
***
Erik almost laughed as she nudged him away with her elbow. She was going to keep this professional. At least she was going to try. He would do almost anything to have her close again, taste her lips, touch her face …
“What?” She backed away from him and shoved her hands in her coat pockets. Most likely cold, despite the killer whale mittens. Too cute. He could keep her warm.
“Why did you run away last night, Sophie?”
“I didn’t run away.” He just gave her a patient, solid look, waiting her out. “I just left.”
“Hmm. Same difference in my book.” He took a step closer, then felt a cold blast as she took a quick step in retreat. What happened last night? Were you embarrassed by the reporter’s appearance?”
“No.” She looked down at her hands, wringing inside her pockets. “Yes. More or less embarrassed with myself. I should have kept it professional.”
“Why? We were a man and a woman, out on the town, enjoying ourselves.”
She thought over all the serious letters from Dr. Zacrevsky she had re-read last evening, back at the hotel. How could she ever just think of him as a man? Erik, perhaps, but the stone cold Communist scientist Dr. Z?
“There is no reason for this to continue.”
“And why not?” He gave her a cute little smile, his head slightly tilting. She swore she felt a kick in her lower tummy.
“Because in the end, you are still on the other side.” He stepped closer, effectively blocking out the view of the turbulent ocean. It did nothing to calm her violently beating heart beat.