Authors: Charles Hayes
Pansy (5 page)
For weeks Nadia had hoped Randy Kellogg would ask her for a date. He seemed surprised that she knew his last name, but she knew a lot about him. She had become interested when her friend and fellow deli employee, Elena, told her one day about the young man who kept looking at her, especially when she couldn’t see him. So both she and Elena started asking around about Randy, and before long she began returning Randy’s glances and wondering why it was taking him so long if he was really interested. All the while she worried and wondered what he would think if he knew the truth about her situation. Maybe it wouldn’t matter. Surely a good person would not be bothered by such things. Still, she worried, and what would Uncle Vadim think about Randy?
The English language was still a challenge and so was trying to understand the culture of interior Alaska. To her way of thinking, the rudeness she witnessed sometimes daily was astounding; people were so rude and disrespectful here compared to the community where she grew up. At least that's how it seemed, so she was surprised to hear locals say this was such a friendly community. Maybe people here seemed rude simply because she did not understand them.
She had left Ukraine just a few months before she turned eighteen, having already adjusted to a world very different from the one she was now exposed to. To her, it felt like a contradiction of sorts that Randy Kellogg’s treatment of the town bully did not make her think less of him. Instead she thought the better of him for having dealt harshly with the man. In a way, she considered it an act of chivalry. Atwood had asked her out repeatedly, and he’d been mean and impolite to her ever since she’d made it clear that she would never go out with him. Elena said Atwood had been watching her and the Marine exchanging glances on several occasions, and he appeared to be angry about it.
Nadia was a little disturbed upon hearing that the Kelloggs were very rich by her standards, because rich to her meant greedy and very likely abusive. Of course, Randy appeared to be nice and a little shy, perhaps as shy as she felt in a land very much at odds with her homeland, and this helped explain her concern that Randy would find out her secrets. She assumed that people in Alaska would expect the kind of hospitality that her countrymen expected, but she and her uncle could not provide it simply because they were too poor. So poor that she feared letting anyone find out where and how she lived, and that was only the beginning of her worries.
At times she wondered if she wouldn’t be better off going back to Ukraine. Alaska was just so different. She’d grown up poor, but then she’d had so much company that for many years most of her friends didn’t even know they were poor. It was just the way things were. Then things began to change rapidly, and now, here in this country, the poor stood out. They weren’t thought of kindly at all, but instead as a scourge of sorts.
If she had more American friends, maybe she could determine why their views seemed so different from hers. She suspected it was mostly based on a misunderstanding among cultures that made people overly suspicious of people who seem different, but this was just a hunch, a hopeful one, because she had no real evidence to show that it was true. She would make an effort to find out. If Randy proved to be a disappointment, she might consider going back home to Ukraine.
Nadia’s life in Ukraine had been hard, but it was familiar, more familiar than this strange country. Not much was left in Ukraine to go back to, though. Her grandparents had died before she was born, and she was only nine when her mother died. Since her father’s death a few years ago, Uncle Vadim was her only living relative, and she feared his time was limited. She needed something to believe in, especially this country, but first she needed to understand it. She needed to figure out what made Americans different from Russians, and she needed to know if it would make any difference in the way she felt about both. So far, she thought Americans worked harder but enjoyed their lives less than Russians. Americans, it seemed, lived too much in the future and Russians too much in the past. She wondered how hard it would be to find middle ground.
Nadia had one problem that mostly likely would end with her new-found happiness blowing up in her face. She didn’t know what to do. The only thing she knew for sure is that she was scared, and this was a bad omen.
Ed wasn’t angry when Randy phoned to tell him about the incident with the bear. He was just glad Randy wasn’t hurt worse than needing a few stitches. This was one thing he would take care of before they left the state. That marauding son-of-a-bitch had to go. When he’d discussed the matter with Fish and Game, they had told him that if they weren’t so short-handed they would do it themselves. No matter, though. This time he would not get sidetracked the way he had so many times before. If he were selling the place, he might let the matter pass, but he didn’t want any students at the ranch one day finding dead livestock on the property.
He’d already agreed to sell most of the herd to three members of his livestock association, but he was going to have to slaughter about eighty head. He’d made the necessary arrangements to use a new portable on-site slaughterhouse that would come to the ranch to set up instead of his having to truck the cattle in. They said it would save time, money, and stress on the stock, and it made sense. The day after he got home from Anchorage, he asked Randy to bring the subject up to Mandy about moving. He wanted her to come to him and broach the subject instead of the other way around. He thought it would be easier that way, but as usual, when it came to second-guessing his daughter, he would come to understand he was wrong about this too.
So, for several days, no one mentioned anything about moving. The strain was getting to him. He couldn’t have the meat packer show up without having told Mandy about what he was doing. She would soon be leaving for college, he rationalized. Moving at this time in her life shouldn’t be so bad. There was a lot they would have to do to get out of Alaska before winter set in again. Lots of things to do and so little time. Wasn’t that the very crux of life, though? No matter his age or the time and place, there was never enough time. But somehow Alaska seemed to make the time shortage worse. The long days of summer and the short days of winter added a sense of urgency for anyone with plans.
It seemed always to be his fate that he had a plan on the table or in the wind, and always there were personal matters he needed to attend to but kept putting off. It had even been true when Amy was alive. As a peace officer he was so good at helping others with personal problems and so inept when it came to his own. Why was it that he would not hesitate to enter a building in pursuit of an armed fugitive but would rather take a beating than have an emotional confrontation with his daughter? It made no sense, and the fact that it didn't added to his disgust with himself. This wouldn't be nearly such a big deal if he hadn't put it off for so long. Something would have to change. They had to talk.
It was clear now that Uncle Ed and Mandy would be moving on soon. Randy felt pressure to decide what he was going to do. Should he stay here or go with them? Should he reenlist? What about Nadia? He didn’t know her, although he wanted to know her as much as he wanted anything. He had also learned that she and the uncle she lived with were poverty stricken, but you couldn’t tell by the way she dressed. Her clothes were simple but clean and not out of style, that is, if you could say style and Delta Junction in the same sentence. Could her interest in him be real or could it be that she was simply desperate to escape poverty? Thinking about it made him uneasy and a little disheartened.
When he’d told his friend Gus that he had a date with Nadia, he detected a little jealousy. But then Gus told him all about Nadia, at least what he knew, which seemed like a lot from someone who had never talked to her except to place food orders. Gus said he’d heard that you never wanted to say anything negative, or the petite little lady from Ukraine would hand you your head. Perhaps it was just the cost of being the prettiest girl in a small town that everything she did was discussed by most everyone, as if it were public business.
His thoughts grew further tangled by Mandy’s reaction when he mentioned to her that Ed wanted to move but was worried about telling her. She had not said a word at first, and then she said, “Great,” seconds before bursting into tears and leaving the room. Sometimes he thought combat was much simpler, and even more desirable in some ways, than domestic life, but then he also knew that when he was on the battlefield, all he could think about was home. How awful, how unfortunate, and how absurd life can be to always wish you were somewhere else. The only time he didn’t feel that way now was when he was thinking about Nadia. He needed to think objectively, but he wasn't even sure he knew how. His recent marathon of deep reading had upended his worldview to such a degree that he wasn't sure about anything. He wasn't even sure about his uncertainty. The only thing he was sure about was Nadia.
* * * * *
Randy walked into the deli on Saturday a half-hour early, and there she stood. Nadia was early, too. Her green dress and auburn hair looked radiant, making those flashing green eyes electrifying. Searching for something clever to say, he waited too long.
She spoke first. “Hi.”
“Hi. Um, nice dress.”
“Thank you.” She smiled.
“You know, when I asked you out, I mentioned a movie, and we both know that you have to drive to Fairbanks to see one. I don’t know why I said that.”
“I knew what you mean. This a small place.”
“Well, there’s only one good place to eat, I mean besides here, and that’s the steakhouse. Is that okay?”
“Sure, that is okay to me. Sometime my English not so good,” she said, glancing away.
“Sounds great to me.”
"In Russia I am literate person. Not so much here."
"Well, not to worry,” he said. “I think I am only now becoming literate myself, and I have always wanted to visit Russia and Ukraine." Seeing the bright look in her eyes, he wanted to say, thanks, Gus.
The restaurant was crowded as usual for a Saturday night, and the sound of voices trying to talk over the clatter of dishes was deafening at times. But they were in luck and didn't have to wait long for a table. Randy was in such good spirits that the noises that usually bothered him wouldn't tonight. He was suddenly aware of how good it made him feel to be seen with Nadia. He kept getting smiles and nods of approval from people he only knew in the most casual way. Now it was as if they were suddenly friends.
After dinner, they went for a drive. For twenty miles southbound on the highway toward Anchorage, Randy told Nadia what it had been like for him growing up in Alaska. That his mother and Mandy’s mother were sisters and how much fun it had been when they were together. He admitted he didn't know who his father was and said his grandparents had been more like parents to him when he was a kid. But then, he explained, after they were killed and then his mother died, he had joined the Marines to rid himself of the sadness and to try to get his life back.
When he turned around and headed back toward Delta, Nadia began to talk about her life in Ukraine. She told how her father and uncle always thought of themselves as Russians no matter where they lived, but they had always been so crossways with government authorities that it had caused them a lot of turmoil and inconvenience. It was mostly her father, she explained. He was so outspoken that she had grown up developing the habit of not saying much to compensate for the jeopardy his behavior always seemed to cause. She said she understood what it was like to lose your mother and that her whole life had changed when her own mother died.
For a few miles they were quiet, lost in magnificent scenery and captivated by each other's company. There was very little traffic, and the steady hum of the big crew cab's engine made Randy self-conscious. Anxious to break the silence, he said, “Still lots of daylight left this time of year.”
“It’s not so different for where I grow up in Ukraine. We had long daylight too, just not so much.”
Randy wished the evening wouldn’t end, but he wanted to be a gentleman. “How did you get to the deli tonight, Nadia?”
“Elena give me a ride. She said she could take me home too.”
“I can take you home.”
“Not necessary,” she said firmly.
“Nadia, I know where you live, if that’s what’s bothering you. One of the guys I know in town told me where, and I drove by the other day. You don’t live that far from us, you know.”
She looked at her hands. “We don’t do so well.”
“So what? Things like that don’t matter to me,” he said.
“It is embarrassment to live in shack, even in Ukraine."
“Nothing to be ashamed of, Nadia. The world over, people have lots of trouble making a living. You should see Afghanistan.”
“My uncle lose a brother in Afghanistan many years ago. And he has TB. You know that too?”
Randy could feel his face go flush, but he tried not to look alarmed. “No, I didn’t know that.”
“No contagion, he just have trouble working. It has left him weak in condition,” she said.
“What kind of work does he do?”
“He was carpenter long ago. Now he just do light work, whatever he can find. My father always say to pursue American Dream. Uncle say dream is illusion. He say people here just as beholden to the powerful people as in Russia and Ukraine.”
"Well, I think if you believe in the American Dream or the Russian Dream, you have a chance to make it so, and if you don't, it's doubtful you will be able to."
When he pulled up in front of Nadia’s residence, he tried to suppress a wince. He had seen it from the road, but the place was worse than a hovel. It looked like a dilapidated mobile home partially covered by green logs, maybe twenty by twenty feet, hardly big enough for two people. He wondered how it could possibly be warm enough in the winter.
When they got out of his truck, he could tell by her movement that she didn’t want him to come in, and he wanted very badly to save her the embarrassment. She leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek.
“You are beautiful, Nadia,” he said.
“You are too,” she said and turned away.