by Kimmy Love
Chapter9
She didn’t know what she would do or where she would go now that she had given up her apartment and her jobs. Heather had nothing to her name but what she wore on her back and carried in the case. Even the case belonged to Yuri, she thought.
After walking in circles for an hour, she saw a taxi and hailed it. When the driver stopped, Heather gave Janey's address in the Bronx and prayed to God Janey could take her in for a day or two at least. She sat in the back of the taxi and took out her cell. She should at least call Janey and give her a heads up but instead she looked at the messages. Nothing from Yuri, just the one from Lemar telling her she had two weeks to come up with the money. She let out a crazed laugh, the driver looked at her through his mirror. Lemar has a fat chance now, she thought. He managed to ruin my life but he won't be getting more money.
Very soon she was pulling up to the brownstone building where Janey lived. She was pleased to see a light on. Heather paid the driver and rang Janey from her cell. “What's up?” Janey breathed. Heather could hear the television in the background.
“I need you?”
“Making wedding plans at this hour. Some of us have work,” she giggled.
“I'm outside.”
“You're what...?” Janey pushed open the window and looked down at Heather. “Come up, babe. You come right on up.”
For the next hour or so, Janey couldn't get an intelligent word out of Heather. Instead, she let her cry herself to sleep on the rickety couch in the living room while Janey's boyfriend snored his head off in the bedroom.
The next morning, Janey made Heather a coffee before she had to leave for work.
“Do you know if they found someone to replace me at factory?” Heather asked, taking the coffee and blowing onto it. Her eyes were puffy. The rims were red and her hair was a mess. She still wore the t-shirt and jeans from the night before.
Janey looked at Heather's suitcase. “As a matter of fact, yeah, they have replaced you,” Janey said. “Um, you need a new job now? So that means whatever went down last night with you and Yuri is permanent?”
“Looks like it.”
“That can't be right. Yesterday we were looking at bridal magazines, the next minute you're here with a suitcase and you can't tell me what happened?”
“I can't talk about it yet, Janey. I'll be out of here by tomorrow latest, I just need to—“
“No, you stay as long as you need to. But I gotta get to work now. If I hear of a job, I'll let you know.” Her voice was weak and hopeless. They both knew how hard it was to walk into a job so quickly.
Janey closed the door and Heather leaned her head back against the sofa. She looked out at the gray and brown brickwork outside Janey's little apartment. The sun was breaking through a bunch of white clouds. It would be a hot day, one where she'd be walking up and down, trying to find a place to stay and a job.
The thought of it all brought tears to her eyes. She closed them and, just like the night before, the only image in her mind was of Yuri and his kind face. It was so easy for him to give her money to pay off the person he thought was her father. He did it without question. Everything that had gone wrong was nothing to do with the actual sum of money but the fact that she had lied. How could she have lied to such a good and generous man like Yuri?
She opened her eyes wondering how long it would take to shake the image of his face from her mind, to reconcile with the fact that she had lost the best thing that could have happened to her in her life.
Heather drank the coffee. It was becoming cold. She took a shower and stood under the flow of water a long time, wiping water from her face as well as tears. When it seemed like the walls of Janeys' apartment were closing in on her, she got dressed and went out. Foolishly, she had come out without money, no cell and she didn't have a key to Janey's place either.
Visions of her days on the streets came back to her. This was exactly her situation when she was fifteen years old. She'd left her parents' house with very little. No money, no job, just as she was today. In two weeks time, Lemar was expecting to see her at that bar. Was it her fate to go to him, money or no money, and pick up where she left off?
Surely her life hadn't come full circle. She remembered all she'd fought for after coming out of prison. She had a college place waiting for her, for Christ's sake. Surely slipping back into her old life wouldn't be that easy. Then, when she closed her eyes and saw Yuri's face, her bright future was slipping further and further out of reach. Maybe a life with Lemar was all she deserved.
After sitting in a nearby, shabby park for hours, Heather returned to Janey's place. Her boyfriend wasn't home yet but Janey looked out of her mind with worry. “Where the hell did you go?” she asked with flaming cheeks. “I've been so worried about you. I came home early because I was worried and kept calling and you didn't pick up.”
“Janey, I'm so sorry. I forget my cell, money, I forgot everything and just needed a walk.”
“No kidding, well that was a damn long walk. How are you?” Janey gestured for Heather to sit down. “Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“I brought us something.”
Janey got up and started taking boxes of Chinese food out of a plastic carrier bag. “You look like shit, by the way.” She came over carrying the boxes on a tray and placed them on the coffee table in front of Heather.
“Eat,” she commanded. “And if you don't want to talk about it, Heather, I won't force it out of you. You take all the time you need.”
After finishing off the best part of the Chinese take away, Janey remembered something. “Oh, I wasn't the only one trying to get hold of you today. When I got home I realized why you weren't picking up. Your cell rang about five times in the last hour.”
Heather looked around wearily for her cell. It was up over by the television. She picked it up and looked over her shoulder at Janey who looked at her intently. Heather worried that it had been Lemar trying to call, in which case she'd rather not know.
“Aren't you going to look to see who's been calling,” Janey started clearing things away.
“Let me help you with this,” Heather said rushing to the left over meal.
“Quit stalling, Heather. See who it is. It could be him.” Just then, Janey's boyfriend came home and Heather turned on the cell.
There had been countless missed calls and numerous texts, all from Yuri. She swallowed hard and walked towards the bathroom.
“Well?” asked Janey, finally unraveling herself from her man. Heather held up a finger as she played the first message. She went into the bathroom and listened to them all as she sat on the edge of the bath.
How could I let you walk out like that? I want you in my life, Heather. We can work this out. Call me from wherever you are. We can work this out.
All of the messages were in a similar tone to this one. Yuri was apologizing to her – she couldn't believe it. He wanted to see her again and she couldn't believe it.
She burst into the living room. “I should call Yuri,” she blurted out. Janey and her boyfriend had the television on.
“So what are you waiting for?” Janey asked, an enormous smile on her face.
Heather called Yuri.
“Thank God,” were the first words out of his mouth. “I was an idiot. I thought you'd never come back to me.”
“Shouldn't I be saying that to you?” she asked in a quiet voice, sitting on the bathtub's edge again. “Yuri, I panicked. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lose you.”
“Where are you?”
“I'm at Janey's.”
“Text me the address and I'll be straight there. Can you forgive me for being a jerk? Will you come back?”
“I didn't think you were being a jerk, Yuri. You have every right to be angry.”
“Not when you hear what I have to say to you. You opened your heart to me and I pushed you away. You told me your story and now it is time I told you mine.”
*
The city
lights went past them in a blur. Heather looked at Yuri's profile as he drove them back to the luxurious Manhattan apartment. Her heart beat fast in her chest. When Yuri arrived at Janey's place, she had given Heather a big hug and asked, “Does this mean the wedding is back on?”
Heather had shrugged her shoulders and left, knowing this part of her life was far from resolved and wondered what it was Yuri had to tell her about his life. As soon as they saw each other outside, Heather had dropped the suitcase and Yuri had swept her up in his strong arms and spun her around. He kissed her deeply and looked tearful as she looked up at him.
“You realize Janey will be looking out of her window, right?”
Both she and Yuri looked up to see both of them hanging out of the window and looking down. Yuri waved, picked up the case and opened the door for Heather.
“Call me!” Janey had shouted before they'd driven off.
The drive home was quiet. For hours, Yuri and Heather sat staring at each other, neither said a word. Should she just come straight out and ask him what his story was? He was obviously struggling, so she tried to break the ice.
“I'm going to make us some cocoa,” she said. She left Yuri sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands and returned to find him in the exact same position.
“Reminds me of when I was little,” Heather said as she brought the steaming cups in. “My mother always gave me cocoa before bed, not that I would have had any trouble sleeping at that age. My sleep problems came when I got older. All the stuff I was putting into my body… I slept when I came down off a high, but it was not a proper sleep. Not like the sleep I remember from when I was a little girl.”
She hesitated and wondered if it was right for her to bring those days up again but Yuri rubbed her thigh and nodded as if he wanted her to go on. They sat close together on the sofa with a lamp lighting the room.
Heather felt uncomfortable waiting for Yuri to get to his story. Maybe now, she thought, he could understand how hard it had been for her to confess all. Now that Heather had opened up to him, she wanted to get everything out. Leave no stone unturned.
“Strange,” Heather said. “But when I was sent to prison, the first night they locked me up, I never thought I'd sleep again; the smells and the sounds in there, it was the worst place I'd ever been to. I mean, before that, I'd been in some sleazy places and I was hanging out with a lot of drug users but they weren't all bad people. Not like in there. In that prison, everyone was bad, or potentially so and I was one of them, but I was afraid of them too.”
“Well, that doesn't surprise me,” Yuri said.
“The thing is, before that, I thought I was so grown up; rebelling against my folks the way I did with nothing really to rebel against. I just thought I knew it all. I was big. But once I got in there I felt so... so small. All I could think about was that little girl who drank cocoa before bed.”
“How did you ever get used to it?” Yuri asked.
“I don't know how, but I did, eventually. I had to come off my drugs cold turkey. I guess that was a bigger deal than the fact that I was about to share my life with hardened criminals. I think some of them felt sorry for me. They must have seen how fragile I really was. One woman took me under her wing; she died in the prison. A growth in her head just exploded and I watched them take her away. That was a real turning point for me. I didn't want my life to end in a place like that, Yuri. I didn't want to get let out of prison and die of an overdose in some filthy apartment in the back of nowhere.”
“Heather, you may regret the things that happened to you, but remember they are in the past. I believe you are a very strong person, a good person. It just took you longer to find the real you, that's all.”
“But I risked losing it all,” she said. “I already lost my parents. I'm just so glad I didn't lose you. Unless, of course, you think this all through, look back at who I was, change your mind and leave me.”
“Never.” He kissed her lips. “Nothing changes how I feel about you.” He had shifted uncomfortably before letting out a long sigh. “Now, I guess it's my turn.”
Yuri didn't speak for a while. It had gotten late. Heather shivered because the living room turned chilly. Yuri, still not having said a word about his past, got up and went to get a blanket off the bed. He returned and wrapped it around them where they sat on the sofa.
After a few moments, he spoke. “Well, I guess my story started before I was even born,” Yuri began. “Your parents were religious people, they loved the church, right? Mine, well mine were far from godly. My father was the second to a well-known Russian mafia boss. My father didn't breath unless this guy told him to and if you knew some of the things my father has done, you wouldn't want to marry me, either. You might always be worried that I might turn out to be like him.”
On the sofa Heather had been leaning on Yuri's chest, his arm around her. “So that's what you had to escape from?” she asked. “You were running with the mob?”
“The way you say it, you make it sound like something from a movie, something made up, not real. The actors get their heads blown off but they end up in another movie the following week. But that was far from true in my father's world. My world.”
“Yuri...are-are you telling me you killed someone?” She stiffened and could not look at him directly to ask the question.
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Yuri?” She ventured to look up.
“I had a gun in my hand. I was fourteen years old. They said the best way to toughen up, like them, was to start young. My father had been talking about it since I turned thirteen. ‘I will test you one day, Yuri, I will test you one day.’ He kept on and on. I was their only son. I wondered how it was they didn't seem to mind losing me. I half expected my mother to talk him out of it, this big test he had for me, to make him come to his senses. But my mother was a mob wife; she was used to the life. She even had her own gun.” Here he gave a weak laugh but Heather stared intently at him and the pain from his eyes.
“Do I need to hear this, Yuri?” she asked, softly.
“I need to tell you.”
Heather nodded and rested her head back onto Yuri's chest.
“My father woke me in the middle of the night one night,” he continued. “Told me we had business to take care of. I knew exactly what he meant but I kept telling him I was too tired, I needed my sleep and that I'd come with him another time. He wouldn't hear of it. He grabbed my clothes, threw them at my face and said, 'Dress, otherwise I have no son to continue the family name.' My hands were shaking; I could hardly tie my shoes laces. I don't know what time it was but it was cold, dark and quiet when we got outside. There was a car at the bottom of the road. We got in. There were four other men already in there. We squashed in like sardines. I can still smell their sweat.
“We drove, far into the night, far from home, to some warehouses on the edge of the town. Someone said, 'Everyone out.' Before I could even move, my father put a gun in my hand; I asked him, 'What's this for?' and he said, 'You will see.' Just like that: 'You will see.'
“One guy, tall, big shoulders, I remember his eyes. He smashed in a warehouse door. There was one man in there, on his own in a back office. My father aimed a gun at him and ordered him out of the office. The rest of us surrounded him. He was shaking. They made him get on his knees. My father looked at me, told me to aim the gun and pull the trigger. 'Yuri – aim between his eyes,' he said. That way it would be a quick kill. My father kept asking the guy if he wanted to die quick or wanted to die slow. He was crying, this dude, but my father was looking straight into my eyes, willing me to pull that trigger. I was holding up the gun, pointing at him but my hand was all over the place. There was sweat on my face, down my back, under my arms. My father stood inches from me and said, 'Your choice. Quick or slow?' I answered ‘Quick’ and my father said, 'Well go ahead. Shoot.' Still, I couldn't do it.”
“Of course you couldn't do it. You were fourteen years old. A boy – not a killer.” He
ather could hear Yuri's heart pounding in his chest as he told the story. She could visualize him as a fourteen year old. She could imagine his fear and she couldn't stop tears from coming to her eyes as she imagined herself by his side telling him, 'Don't do it Yuri, you'll regret it your whole life.'
“In the end,” Yuri said, “my father shouted, 'Shoot him!' But I couldn't. I lowered the gun; my whole body was still shaking. I turned to look at my father and he never took his eyes off me as he ordered the men; 'My son has decided; he wants this man to die slow.' The guy on his knees threw himself at my feet and begged me to shoot him. The others laughed. They threw petrol all over him and set him alight. My father made me watch until the end. It took forever but this man just burned to death at my feet. I killed him, Heather.”
She sat up to face him. “It wasn't you, it was your father. You weren't responsible. You were just a boy.”
“That's when I decided I had to leave my family, my home, my country. If I'd stayed there I would have had no choice but to face the same thing again. I failed my initiation. My father beat me to a pulp when we got home. My mother nursed my wounds and as I got into bed she told me, 'Yuri, you won't fail again.' That's when I started planning my escape from that life.”
“But how did you do it?” Heather asked.
“I had a teacher from my school, computer science, my favorite subject. He gave me extra credit and I used to talk to him. But he wasn't stupid, he knew things about my father I had no idea he knew. This teacher, well, he thought that with my brain, I was wasted in that kind of life. If it wasn't for him, I would be a killer now or I would be dead. He helped me escape and I came here, to America.”
“And lucky for me, you managed to escape, Yuri.” Heather hugged him around the waist and she leaned against him again.
She closed her eyes and let the tears flow. She cried for him, for herself, for the children they were and the people they could’ve become if things hadn't changed for them. Both of them could be dead by now; they may never have met.