My Angel

by Tetiana Brooks

  “And now, one more to your health!”

  “The third one for love.”

  We kept toasting and drinking. Then we danced, and then drank again. Then again. More dancing, only this time on the table. We were playing around heartily.

  When we switched to tea, Natalia became sad. Her eyes were glistening.

  “Why are you sad, Natalia?”

  “I feel so sorry for you.” Suddenly she burst into tears. “Are we in the middle of a desert? You’ve helped so many people. Where are they all now? And your recent peacock? He could at least have called!” Now she was sobbing.

  “Oh, my dear Natalia, don’t be sad. Imagine us, things will be so beautiful. Five years from now, you will earn a lot of money... “ I started dreaming, and raised my eyes to the sky.

  “And your hair-cutting business will grow,” Natalia said. She also rolled her enormous blue eyes in dreamy ecstasy.

  “You will get a promotion.” I continued to dream. “You’ll be the senior nurse in your department. No, in the entire hospital!”

  “Wow, that’s too much, Polina. Head nurse of the whole hospital! To become the senior nurse in the hospital, I’ll need some cosmic pull.” My girlfriend laughed.

  “Even just while dreaming? You should always ask for more, so at least some of the things will come true,” I said.

  “Well, in that case, you will sell the house, and buy a fashionable three-bedroom apartment. Even better would be a house. A huge, two-storied manor.”

  “Boris will quit drinking and will pull up his socks like a man and get a job,” I said.

  “You’ll get married to a rich and good man.”

  “Again, this marriage nonsense!” I chided her.

  A thought rushed into my head. “Oh, Natalia, where have you seen a wealthy, yet a good man here?” Despite my cynicism about marriage, I laughed.

  “Well, then, maybe it will be not a local. A Frenchman or an American,” my friend interjected.

  I burst out laughing. “French? American? Come on! Why would they come here? Have you seen any around lately? They are in France and America. And even if by some miracle they come here, such an old trout, as I am, is the last thing they want. They are looking for young and beautiful fish. Anyway, when you become rich, you can buy a car. Do you want a car?”

  “You bet I do. Don’t want to carry those heavy bags from the market by myself all the time.” Natalia sighed.

  “What kind of car do you want?”

  “A Lada. That would be cheaper to repair if it breaks down.”

  “I would like a Honda,” I continued my dreaming. “Or a Mazda.”

  “My goodness, Polina, you want your bread buttered on both sides!”

  “That’s what dreams are for. They’re all for free.” I went on having fun with my wild, impossible desires.

  “Let’s have a toast to that. For dreams to come true!”

  “Yes, yes. And dreams always come true, of course.”

  But still we drank a toast to that.

  “Can you imagine, we could take our boys on vacations to Yalta, to the seaside? Or even to Sochi.”

  In the life situation we were in, Yalta and Sochi were the same as Venus or Mars. So remote, almost unimaginable. Just like all the things we dreamed of.

  “We will buy beautiful dresses,” Natalia prompted me. “And we’ll walk along the tree-shaded avenues in big summer hats. Then we’ll swim in the sea and sunbathe on pristine exotic beaches.”

  “And they will serve us fancy cocktails in beautiful crystal goblets from a silver tray.”

  “And then an American will approach with a polite ‘How do you do?’ and just over his shoulder we will see his gorgeous Cadillac.”

  “Yep. All shiny white. Oh, Natasha, you are a wild sort of dreamer.” I laughed heartily. “Come back to earth. Come on, one more drink, the last, and then it’s bedtime for us.”

  Then we were singing Russian folk songs, drunk from alcohol, sadness, and despair.

  Surprisingly, we ended up enjoying every second of that evening. Natasha left the next morning for work, and I began to think how we could possibly realize all our plans. Well, if not all, then at least the first and the most important: to sell the house, pay my ex his part of it, and with the rest of the money, to buy a flat for myself.

  Chapter Two

  The solution, came unexpectedly and directly right to the house. A young couple was looking in the village for an affordable home for themselves and their two children. They did not have all the money needed to buy right away, so they liked my idea: they would give me the earnest money. With this money, I could pay all the debts for the house bills, and when they paid me the rest, we would sign over the property to them. So it was a deal.

  For the completion of paperwork all the family members from both sides arrived. For the last time my ex tried to convince our son to give him his part of money from the sale of the house.

  “No, Dad,” said my eighteen-year-old grown-up boy, “We’re men. We are stronger. Mom is a woman. I can’t, I’m sorry.

  “Mom,” our son addressed me. “If I give you my portion, will you be able to buy an apartment and then pay for it?”

  “Yes, of course, but it will be your apartment, too.”

  “Don’t do that, Mom. You should be the only owner. For one person the bills will be half the cost.”

  “Thank you, my son,” these the only words I could whisper, unable to continue from tears choking my throat. “Thank you, but you should know that it will be your home too.”

  For me it was strange to realize that this generous young man was my son, who grew up so fast in the last few years.

  When he was leaving for the entrance exams at the military institution, he was not yet seventeen. We were putting him with Aleksei on the train and when the train was ready to leave, Vova told me, “Exams are from 20 to 28 of August. If I come home earlier, do not ask me anything. It means I failed. Okay?”

  I knew he hated losing. I felt so sorry for him! Sorry that I couldn’t go with him. Sorry that he was so young and had to leave home without any financial support. Sorry I had no money to pay for his dream, which was medical school.

  He must have been so frightened. And sadness was filling each part of my lost soul. I came back home from the station, howling. It was a true howl of despair. As a she-dog losing her puppy. In full voice.

  And then a warm and gentle breeze touched me. Something whispered in my ear, “Don’t cry, don’t cry, everything will be fine.” Then the warmth covered my shoulders, and stroked me on the head.

  “Is that you, my angel? Thank you.” I even wanted to smile and to believe that everything would really turn out fine. And I believed him. I couldn’t explain it but I did believe him.

  Every morning I would go to work, and on returning my heart skipped a beat. Was the door open or closed? Oh, closed. So he was still there, still passing his exams. There was still some hope, some chance. I was praying. I tried to be strong, no matter how difficult it was.

  I had to keep my hands busy. Cook. Clean up. Grub up weeds. Even if there was nothing to pull up. Watch TV, read a book. Just not to think. Not to worry. Not to be afraid. I prayed, Forgive me, God, for my fears. Help me, angel!

  And again there was the feeling of light warm soft touch, “Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine.”

  That Saturday I was calm and confident that my son was doing well. There were still four more days before the end of exams. “He will pass them,” I kept saying. “Everything will be fine.” But as I was leaving the house early in the morning, I saw Vova entering our yard. A duffel was flung over his shoulder, the bag he had packed before leaving.

  It’s over. He failed, was the first thought I had before I fainted.

  When I came back to my senses, I saw my son’s face, a little worried, but at the same time happy.

  “Mom, Mom! I’m all right. I passed! Don’t worry, everything is fine,” he said, and smiled.

 
; Everything is fine, everything is fine. He did it! These thoughts were rushing in my head.

  “You did it? But there are four more days of exams.” This was the only thing I managed to mumble.

  “I did it, Mom, I did them so fast! I passed the exams. I was accepted. They allowed me to come home till the first of September. And I’ll have to bring money to donate for renovations of the rooms we are going to live in.”

  That was only a year ago, and today he was an adult, refusing to knuckle under and give his own money to his greedy father, and giving it to his mother for her own dwelling. I felt happy that I had such a generous son, and completely broken-hearted at the same time that I couldn’t afford to refuse his offer.

  “I’ll buy an apartment and will pay for it, but you should know that it is your apartment too. Your home. And you are more than welcome, please... God bless you!” I said, and burst out crying.

  Soon, by good fortune, I bought a small one-room apartment on the third, the prestigious, floor. Was it a sign of good luck?

  My major problem with dwellings was solved.

  Chapter Three

  So, as they say, I started to live happily ever after. Busy with daily affairs, I didn’t notice how a few more years passed. I was trying hard to figure out whether I was doing everything right, if I’d truly learnt the lessons taught me by my life. I was reading a lot. I was working a lot. So my barber’s business and well being both kept slowly growing.

  About this time Vova married a girl he had known since childhood, and they were expecting my grandchild to come into this world. I was happy, and truly loved my daughter-in-law. We lived in the same house with her family and watched our children growing up together and being friends.

  Savoring the beauty of single life, I didn’t miss marriage at all. But after five years of this, in October a life-changing event happened. Of course, at that time I had no idea how transformative it would be for my life.

  The weather was strange. The air was filled with wet mist. It was not quite a fog, but not rain yet. There was no wind so this soggy mist seemed to seep into everyone who had the courage to go outside, and get deep under the skin. I had to go out for a meeting with another possible client so I off I went.

  “Polina!” I heard a voice behind me.

  Turning, I saw Veronika. She wasn’t one of my close friends. But our city was so small. I knew Veronika due to my friend, Zhenia, who had advised me to read Mikhail Veller’s novels. The persevering heroes of his story, saved by the ambulance doctor, Zviagin, helped me to make the correct decision at a critical moment, and not to take away my own life before its due time.

  I was still in touch with Zhenia. Though she had quite a prestigious position in our local newspaper, it didn’t prevent her from being a good friend to me, an officially unemployed woman with no great achievements in my life.

  So Veronika, perhaps with this in her mind, said, “Hey, I’m going to meet Zhenia.”

  “Oh.”

  “How are you?”

  I wondered if she really wanted to know how I am doing, or if this is just a formality, I thought. “Okay,” I answered, unwilling to commit as to how I really felt.

  “You don’t look that good. You seem exhausted or something.”

  I think you’ll agree with me that such a compliment can be said only by one woman to another. A man would lie or, at least, say nothing. Oh, Veronika!

  She looked stunning. She was wearing a beautiful and very expensive leather coat of a nice deep wine color, with boots matching it, and a perfect hairstyle. My clothes could not compete with hers. A cheap quilted jacket, neat, but pretty shabby, old boots I’d used to work in my garden, and no hairstyle to speak of. Everything was bought at the local market, and not in an expensive boutique. But to my surprise and pleasure I noticed that I didn’t care how elegantly Veronika was dressed. And I had no desire to look like her. Strange. This would not have happened five or six years before.

  During this interior dialogue, a picture from my distant youth came to my mind. I recollected being in that central square of that provincial Uman city, walking with Liuda. Yes, that first beauty in the past, the one I wanted to look like. The one whom that strange man predicted would live with the Sword of Damocles hanging over her, because of her own daughter. I had met her recently, that very daughter? What has beenhappening with Veronika?

  Chapter Four

  “Polina?” A low, hoarse voice called me.

  “Yes. Me. Hello.”

  The face of this tired old woman was definitely familiar, but I could not remember where from. And then, like a flash! “Liuda?”

  “You don’t recognize me?”

  “No, I’m sorry, I was deep in thought and it took me a few seconds to come back to reality.” I tried to turn it into a joke. “How are you, Liuda?”

  “Well, as you can see...”

  I really hadn’t recognized her when she spoke, this exhausted old woman. I wanted to know more about her life and what destiny had forced to become like this.

  “How are you?” I asked, trying not to show how surprised I was with her frayed condition.

  Once, walking along in Uman city center, we met a man who had said a few words to each of us. This man, old as death itself, had never left my thoughts. Now the memory of that man was as clear as ever. “And you, your daughter is going to be your Damocles” sword,” he had said, addressing Liuda.

  “Let’s go and have a cup of tea,” I said, pointing to the lovely cafe across the road.

  Liuda was hesitant.

  “I’m buying.”

  The story, she told me over that cup of tea, knocked me dead.

  “Do you remember,” she began, “you and I went to the same school? During the last year I started dating Oleg Pshenichny.”

  “Oh yes! He was the king of the city!” I exclaimed without thinking. “Not surprising, then you were such a beauty!”

  “That’s the thing. I was.”

  “Well, you are still beautiful,” I lied.

  Liuda, ignoring my phony compliment, continued. “So, we got married. There was plenty of money, so life seemed perfect. We went to Turkey and Egypt for holidays, even to France. A year later our daughter was born.”

  Oh! A daughter! So the old man had known what would happen to Liuda thirty years ago. He knew! How could he know? And if he knew that, then maybe he was not simply an ugly old man! Who then, was he? Did that mean that my future was supposed to become better? Though I was predicted to have a happy and rich life, it was hard to believe in that, and for some reason, even scary.

  “Do you have children, Polina?”

  “Yes, a son.”

  “Well, then you know that at the beginning, especially the first year, a woman devotes herself to the child totally. So I did. Moreover, my Ira was such a sweetheart. Oleg loved her, of course, but did not help me. Even worse, he went on one bender after another.

  “At first I would complain and argue with him, then I started going for an overnight at my mom’s place, and finally, I filed for divorce. I have no idea how he arranged it, maybe with some of his money, but a week later we were divorced. Then, threatening to take away my daughter forever, he started taking her at first for just a few days, and later for a few months.”

  “And did he take care of her by himself?” I could not believe it. “He always thought only of himself.”

  “No, she lived with his mother. And that woman hated me.”

  It gave me the creeps. The farther into the forest, the thicker the trees.

  “To cut it short, when Ira went out of control, the same as her father, they gave her back to me and never asked for her anymore.”

  “What happened to her? Where is she now?”

  Evidently, it was hard for Liuda to talk about it, but on the other hand it seemed she needed to share her grief with someone.

  “Well, Polina, she is in prison,” Liuda said after a moment’s pause. “For six years already. Another five years left. Better if
she stays there! I am horrified to think of the day she will get out.”

  Liuda finally started eating her little cakes with her tea. I was also silent. The silence continued, and than I dared to ask, “What is she in prison for?”

  “First, her friends were prostitutes. Then she started on the drugs. And then, then... Well, she killed her boyfriend, and also stabbed me. I somehow survived, but he, poor guy, didn’t.”

  “Oh, my dear heaven!” I gasped.

  “Such a good boy, he was. Ira is beautiful. He loved her, you know? He came to talk to me and wanted to help her. Do you understand? We were talking, when Ira, furious, ran into the room, with a knife in her hand, well, and...”

  It was harder and harder for Liuda to continue. I realized that I needed to end this torture.

  “Miss, could you bring us more of tho-o-ose cakes?” I changed the topic, turning to the waitress. Thank Heaven, it worked. Liuda seemed to calm down a bit. Perhaps she was resigned to her fate, or somehow just got used to it.

  My reactions were difficult to describe. All my skin was covered with goose bumps and my body felt numb. I could not move, not a finger on my hand or a toe on my foot.

  “How are you?” Liuda finally asked me, realizing she had to be polite and ask about my life.

  But I couldn’t tell her anything. First of all, I had no words for my life after what I had just found out, and secondly, I doubted she remembered me mentioning that old man and everything he told us. She hadn’t even seen him there.

  “Nothing special,” I said, “like everyone else.”

  And now, talking to Veronika, that meeting with Liuda flashed in my head within a few seconds. “All is not gold that glitters,” says one of our proverbs. And another is “Beauty is only skin deep.”

  So while I was thinking about this, Veronica kept talking. When I returned my mind to reality, I heard. “If you want, I can register you on a dating site. My husband helped me to open a dating agency, so that’s my main business. I was just going to see Zhenia, to place the advertisement. Sure, your chances are low, well, because of your, you know, age.” Veronica couldn’t resist a sarcastic mention of that. “How old are you?”