Oswald's Tale (5 page)

Ilya was much more strict. He worried till Marina came back at night from a date. Not everything went smoothly between them, either, for Marina had a quick tongue. On the other hand, there was one young man with very good manners that Ilya liked, a young medical student named Sasha, and Ilya even had coffee with him. And, of course, there wasn’t really all that much friction with Ilya, because Marina didn’t come home late all that often. Not when he was home. Marina saved her late nights for those times when Ilya was away on a business trip and Valya was alone. Marina had told Valya that in Leningrad her stepfather, Medvedev, didn’t allow her back into his apartment if she was late. She would have to sleep on the outside staircase. Valya cried when she heard that.

Valya always wondered why, after Klavdia died and her stepfather mistreated her, Marina never asked any of her aunts or Ilya to take her in. “Why did she stay on in Leningrad so long—two more years?”

Yet, Marina was full of envy when she finally arrived. She said, “Oh, what a paradise you two have here.” Valya never understood these remarks, because there wasn’t anybody to work for Valya. If it was as good as Marina described it, Valya was the one who worked hard to create it.

Still, there was no real problem with Marina. Her room was always neat and there was never any difficulty with their bathroom, which was inside now, and in turn, Valya would never say a word to her when she did come home late, because she trusted her to be a nice girl. For that matter, Marina shared her secrets. So Valya now knew which boyfriend she liked and those about whom she felt most critical.

Because of such knowledge, Valya pitied Sasha when Marina didn’t treat him well. Valya just couldn’t see people being handled so rudely. After all, Sasha came every time with flowers, and was so nice to Marina. And how Marina treated him!

In fact, he was so much in love with Marina that Ilya and Valya had even started to call him “son-in-law,” but one day, feeling sorry for him, Valya told him that if you’re going to marry Marina, you have to understand that she had a very difficult time in Leningrad. Sasha said, “I don’t want to hear anything about that.”

Marina came home about this time, overheard part of their conversation, took Valya into the kitchen to tell her how upset she was, then came out and said to Sasha, “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

It depressed Valya, but then you could say that Marina, living with her stepfather, Medvedev, had gotten used to being the boss of herself, anyway. No one could influence her, Valya decided, because Marina was accustomed to taking serious decisions without a mother, without a father. Valya knew, for example, that Marina was smoking. In Leningrad, somebody had introduced her to cigarettes that came in a pretty box. They were slender and slim and feminine. Valya knew she was smoking, because a neighbor saw Marina doing it in a restaurant and told Valya. It was fortunate Uncle Ilya was away in another city on business. And Valya had a toothache that time, so she said to Marina, “I took medicine; it doesn’t help. I’m hurting. Give me one of your cigarettes.” Marina was flabbergasted. She said, “I don’t have any.” Valya said, “Come on, don’t lie to me. Go get it from your purse.”

Marina said, “Did you check my things?” And Valya said, “I know you’re smoking, so give me for my toothache. You know, nicotine, painkiller.” After Marina passed one to her, Valya said, “You better stop doing it. If you don’t quit, I’m going to tell Uncle Ilya.”

But she wouldn’t quit, Valya knew. Marina liked smoking. It was Western, adventurous. Like Italian cinema. Marina loved Fellini films so much.

Those movies certainly gave her ideas. Once, Marina even told Valya that in her opinion, Ilya was not for her; officers were always marrying educated women. Valya still remembers; it hurt so deeply.

Valya had been faithful to her husband, but Marina didn’t understand why. She wanted Valya to have an affair. She even urged her. Since Valya couldn’t have a baby with Ilya, why didn’t Valya make a baby with someone else? “Why should you suffer because of him?” And Marina said that if Valya had a man over, she, Marina, could even sit at the entrance and watch to see if Ilya was coming. “You could have your affair, and then you could have a baby.” To which Valya said, “No, I couldn’t. If Ilya found out, he would kill me.” Of course, Ilya was sometimes very strict with Marina. And Marina didn’t like that. No one could offend her without being paid back. Once Valya and Marina were marinating cucumbers and needed leaves from a berry bush to flavor them, so they went to a theatre where there were many flowers outside, and a berry bush, and they started to pick leaves. There was a woman in charge of this park who began to scold them and said, “How do you dare? Don’t you know why we put bushes and flowers around? Don’t you know that we want to look beautiful so all of our city can enjoy it? And you come here and destroy such beauty?” But Marina said, “You know what we’re going to do? Pickle cucumbers. Come visit us and you will have some cucumbers too. What are
you
doing, after all? We’re not doing anything wrong.” If it were not for Marina, maybe Valya would have been fined, but Marina could always stand by her decisions and feel that whatever she did was right.

One night in March of 1961, Ilya was away on a business trip and Marina went to a dance at the Trade Union Palace and then came back later that night and woke up Valya and whispered to her that she’d been dancing, and then she said, “Valya, get up. Show how cultured you are, because I have brought home an American. I brought you an American. Make a good cup of coffee.” Marina was happy and said, “I would like for you to act educated.”

Of course, Valya got scared. She almost shivered in bed. If Marina had come through the door with an American ten years earlier, back in Stalin’s day, they’d all be in prison. Now, in 1961, there was a big difference in feeling—they had gone from Stalin to Khrushchev—and so Valya remembers that she was not very worried and she got up and made coffee for the American, who was nice, very nice, and dressed very neatly. His name was Alik because, as she learned later, nobody could say Lee—it sounded like Li, that is, Chinese—and so it was a while before she learned his full American name was Lee Harvey Oswald.

2

Zyatouk

Sasha Piskalev, seventeen years old in the summer of 1958, could not pass his exams at Minsk Medical Institute the first time he tried. It was a serious blow. From childhood, Sasha had dreamed of becoming a doctor. He had been an ailing child, so he always loved and respected people in white gowns, and liked how they came and cured him and cured other people. Any person who could bring sick people over into a healthy state had to be very important. So, after he failed his exams, he obtained a job at Professor Bondarin’s laboratory and served there as an assistant. Bondarin treated him well. Although Sasha was very young, this esteemed professor always called him by both his first name and by his father’s first name, Nikolai, addressing him as Sanich, a nice way of speaking to somebody who’s young, using the patronymic, Sasha Nikolaivich, by way of the short form, Sanich. And, by 1960, Sasha succeeded in becoming a medical student at the evening faculty while still working days with Professor Bondarin.

He also became friends with Professor Bondarin’s nephew, Konstantin Bondarin. Kostya had finished high school while Sasha was working, and together they had passed their University exams. Kostya also had a friend named Yuri Merezhinsky, an only son of high-ranking scientists. Sasha didn’t really have much time to run around with elite children in their easy life—he had to work, after all, and go to the University—but they took classes together and sometimes did go out afterward.

About this time, Sasha met Marina, and it started. She was a month or two older, and more experienced, and he was fascinated. Soon enough, he was crazy about her. They went to the movies, he played piano for her, and they listened to symphonic music. Tchaikovsky was their favorite. A month after they started going out, she introduced him to her relatives, and he was invited to meet her aunt and uncle, who had a three-room apartment near the opera house, and Valya fed them tea and cakes. At that time, Sasha admired Marina a good deal, but they didn’t talk about marriage, although her relatives soon began to call him
zyatouk,
which is a warm word for son-in-law, a nice word. It’s not that they were engaged, but it was supposed that they would be. And Sasha worked and studied well because he had Marina in his life.

He lived from one date to another. It made his work and study easy. And when he visited her home, Marina’s aunt would put out sandwiches and cakes and either watch TV with them or leave them alone, so they would have a chance to sit there and kiss. Nothing more. This aunt looked like a very simple person, but such appearances were deceiving, because she read a lot, and inside her, Sasha thought, was contained much more than how she looked.

While Sasha was dating Marina, his medical school friends Yuri and Kostya went out with different girls all the time. Sasha thinks they were laughing at him for being serious; they mocked him sometimes, and maybe they tried to tease Marina. But he felt they were envious because he had the prettiest girl. He doesn’t believe they ever teased her unpleasantly, because Marina had a strong character, and if anybody ever expressed himself in an unpleasant manner to her face, she would reply, “You are not needed yourself!” Nor did he feel that they wanted to take Marina away from him. They could see he was deeply in love, and they, of course, were not in love with anybody. For that matter, he very seldom invited Marina along with his friends, because he didn’t really want to be with them. Maybe he was even a little afraid to take her around them.

When he would go out with Yuri and Kostya he would drink, but not get drunk, and he would talk a little about Marina, but not in a harmful way. Never. What she told him, he would keep in his heart. It was just that he liked to praise her, because he was so much in love.

He had met Marina at one of these parties for Medical Institute students, and he had invited her to dance once, and then again, and then he asked if he could accompany her home. She was a very good dancer and he was not, but she could make you feel better than usual when dancing. Which was rare for him. He wasn’t the kind of person who is interested in ballrooms. He had learned how to dance by himself; nobody taught him. So, during their first few minutes he was somewhat awkward, but then she began to lead him, and it was as if she breathed a little more life into him. They could feel comfortable together. He was on the short side, but even when she was wearing her high heels, he was taller.

He had met Marina in the summer of 1960, when he turned nineteen, and no other girl interested him. They dated once a week, and would take walks together and discuss where they wanted to go next time, to which opera or theatre or concert or ballet.
The Nutcracker
was their favorite.

They paid for everything half and half. She understood that he was a student, and she was already working. So one time he would buy the tickets, and then she would next time. He remembers that tickets in those days cost about a ruble or a ruble fifty, and they could have sat up in the students’ gallery, in cheaper seats, but usually chose parterre. That was expensive. Two rubles was an average worker’s pay for an entire day.

He was charmed by her behavior. She was different from other girls. Even her manners were different, and the way she dressed with taste. The apartment where she lived with her aunt and uncle had high ceilings and large rooms and a decent foyer. He remembers he was shy when he came to her apartment, but then Aunt Valya came out and invited him into the living room, and it was easy to talk to her. She was very sociable.

When he finally proposed to Marina, she said, “Let’s wait a bit.” But he was ready to get married. He was working at night as an orderly in the emergency ward and was earning about 150 rubles a month, more than a doctor—which is why he couldn’t date Marina every night; he was working too hard, and doing it in order to be able to have a nice time with Marina and later set up housekeeping. They could have rented an apartment somewhere. Valya said that they could live with her, but he wanted to get his own place.

Usually, he would come home with Marina after a movie or a concert and stay about fifteen, twenty minutes before he left. He remembers that Valya’s husband, Ilya, seemed terrifying to him when first they met. He was tall, lean; he had a long nose. Colonel Prusakov. Yet, when he opened his mouth to talk, he was a kind person. However, in that first moment, Sasha felt small, and a little afraid. After all, he knew where the Colonel worked, and Sasha was afraid of the Organs. He thought KGB and MVD were both called the Organs, but then KGB and MVD were mixed up in his mind. And this Uncle Ilya was so tall and gaunt. Perhaps he understood Sasha’s fear, however, for when he started to talk, he was easy, and did not speak in a prosecutorial tone but in a normal, human voice. Sasha had a feeling that they treated Marina very well. Of course, Ilya wasn’t around much, but their home was not without his presence.

When Sasha would come by to take Marina somewhere in the evening, Valya would say, “Sasha, no later than eleven o’clock.” They were just like parents. In fact, at first he thought they were her mother and father.

On the other hand, he had very little understanding of Ilya’s occupation. How could a young man understand what went on in the Organs? He knew it was something to be afraid of, and Ilya was high up; there were stars on his epaulets. So at first, Sasha was not only scared of Ilya but, as a result, he was a little intimidated by Marina. Afterward, when he came to know Ilya better, he could see Marina without fear. In truth, he didn’t want to know what Ilya did—didn’t care whether he was a warden of prisoners or an administrator of a factory.

He did ask Marina once, and she said, “It’s better not to know.” In those days, to someone like himself, KGB and MVD were one and the same: a big, dark spot.

Sometimes Marina would try to tell him something about her past, but he would stop her. He was not interested. Then her aunt tried to tell him, but Sasha did not consider it dignified to engage in such conversations. Now, he thinks Aunt Valya wanted him to know the story of Marina’s past because she was afraid that if somebody else told him, it could prove hurtful.

He does recall that he came to Marina’s home after she did not show up for a date, and Valya made tea, and they talked, and were very much aware that Marina was not there. Valya began to speak of Leningrad and the conditions of life then for Marina, and Sasha said, “You know, I am not interested. For the future, I want to have her as my wife. So I am not interested in what is past.” Then Marina came in, and Valya said: “I told Sasha about you.” And Marina, as if she had been expecting this, was very cool to Sasha. After that, it was as if she were trying to escape him. He believes she was afraid of his reaction. He went to her pharmacy, he called her at home, but she avoided him. She liked flowers and his mother had a large garden, so he kept trying to bring her bouquets well into autumn. But she wouldn’t see him. He would wait for Marina outside her pharmacy, and finally he caught her coming home from work, and she agreed to let him walk with her. It was cold, a winter night, and they went to a small park near the opera house, and she told him she had had a very difficult life, told him she was nobody, no good—“I’m not what you think I am. I’m not an angel. I’m no good for you.” Then she said, “You must get out of my life.”

He felt Marina wanted to humiliate herself in front of him, so he repeated, “I am not interested in your past; I am only interested in our present and in our future.” Now, he wonders if maybe she just wanted to get rid of him, although he doesn’t think she was dating anyone he knew. When she tried to tell him about Leningrad, however, she grew very emotional; she cried. He, however, kept saying, “You are here for me, and you will be. I don’t want to know what happened to you before. You are now my life and we’re going to be happy all our lives.”

She became quiet. Later that night they kissed each other, and she said, “I don’t deserve you. I’m bad.” But he told her, “I love you exactly how you are.”

That was it. They were together again. He went home. His mother was very strict, and he had to be home by a certain time, but on warmer nights, sometimes she would walk him all the way to his home, and then he would come back with her, and that way they could enjoy an hour or two, walking back and forth.

This happiness, which began in the summer of 1960, had continued for Sasha, but for its one interruption, until March of 1961, when the Medical Institute had a large students’ party at the Trade Union Palace. He invited Marina, of course, and Kostya Bondarin was there, and Yuri Merezhinsky, and as he recalls, Yuri brought Alik, an American. Just about the time that everybody was dancing, this American, Alik, invited Marina to do the same. Then, Sasha also danced with Marina—for that matter, many men had invited Marina to dance—Sasha didn’t pay any great attention. She was dancing, that’s all. But over the next couple of weeks, Marina became distant. When he called, Valya said she was not in. And when he went down to her pharmacy, she tried to avoid him again. So he knew that something was wrong. As they say in Minsk, “There was a black cat running between us.” Soon enough, he learned that he had a tragedy in his love affair. It was over. His life, and his dreams, vanished. Even now, it is painful.

He waves his hand gently, as if the residue of this old sorrow, more than thirty years old, could overflow again. “It’s okay,” he says. “We stopped dating each other, and in a month or two, somebody told me, ‘Sasha, did you hear that Marina’s going to marry that American?’”

She was still in his heart. Whenever he had to go to her pharmacy for medicine, he would follow her with his eyes when she passed. He didn’t have tears, but it was as if a cat were inside his soul, scratching with its paws.