Colum McCann - Dancer

Ten-forty-five

I suggested he rest before going to see Mother but he said: Why? Then he laughed: There will be plenty of time to sleep in hell. If he couldn’t go home yet he wanted to drive around the city and see more sights. In the hotel lobby there was another long argument about scheduling and itinerary, but eventually it was agreed — we would drive in a convoy for a few hours. We drove slowly in the snow. The Opera House was closed; our old house on Zentsov Street had been knocked down long ago; the hall on Karl Marx Street was locked up; and the road to the Tatar graveyard was impassable. We parked the car a hundred yards down the hill from the entrance. Rudik begged the driver to find him some snowshoes. The driver said he had nothing except what he wore on his feet. Rudik looked over the seat. Give me those. He thrust some dollars at the driver. Rudik’s feet were too small for the driver’s boots but Nuriya offered him her socks which he stuffed in. The bodyguard wanted to accompany him, but Rudik was angry: I’ll go on my own, Emilio. We watched from the car as Rudik negotiated the drifts and climbed the iron fence and disappeared over the hill. Only the tops of the graveyard trees appeared above the snow. We waited. Nobody said a word. The snow piled up on the windows. When Rudik finally returned — after trudging through the deep drifts — I could see that the sleeves of his coat were soaking wet, also the knees of his trousers. He said he had used a branch to clear some of the snow away from Father’s headstone. I was sure he must have fallen somehow. He said he had listened to hear the thud of trains across the Belaya but there was none. We drove away. The light was glorious. It bounced off the snow everywhere. The wild dogs near the factory stopped barking and for a moment everything was still.

Twelve-fifteen

The bodyguard fished in his pocket for a small bottle of pills and Rudik took three without water. He said he had a flu, that the medicine cleared his head. Nuriya said that she too felt a hint of cold, but Rudik refused to give her any pills, said they would be too strong for her. At the railway station he bought sunflower seeds. I haven’t tasted them in years. He ate two, spat out the shells, and threw the rest away. We passed Sergei and Anna’s old house and slowed down. I thought I might see Yulia at the airport in Leningrad, he said. Perhaps she is dead. I told him I knew nothing of her. He said that she used to send letters to him but they had dried up over the years.

Twelve-thirty

At our house two more officials were waiting. Ilya sat by the banquet table but rose to shake Rudik’s hand, their third handshake. Ilya looked into his eyes but Rudik was distracted. Too many people! He beat on his chest with his gloved fists and roared a terrible curse in Tatar. And then he began making a fuss with the French officials. He wanted to be left alone. I gathered up my courage and hushed him, then guided the officials out of the house. Rudik thanked me, said he was sorry for shouting, but they were nothing but donkeys, his whole life was surrounded by braying donkeys. He was terribly anxious to see Mother but first I had to explain to him all the difficulties, that she could not speak, that her eyesight was failing badly, that she might slip in and out of consciousness. He didn’t seem to be listening. Outside the house we could hear the French and Russian officials arguing. Rudik was afraid they would insist on coming back in so he took a chair and slid it under the door handle. He told his bodyguard to stay by the door. How nervous we all were. He took off his overcoat, his colored scarf, draped it on the hatrack and entered Mother’s room. She was sleeping. He pulled up a chair beside her, bent down, and kissed her. She didn’t stir. Rudik looked up at me, pleading, wondering what to do. I gave Mother some water and her tongue moved to her lips. He held a beautiful necklace to her throat. Mother shifted but did not open her eyes. Rudik mashed his hands together like he was suddenly seven years old again. He whispered to her urgently. Mother. It’s me. Rudik. I told him to give her time, that she would wake eventually, he must have patience.

Twelve-forty-five

I decided to leave him alone. As I left I saw him slip the earphones off his neck as if they might muffle anything Mother might say. I stood outside the door. He continued to whisper, although I couldn’t make out what he said. For a while it seemed as if Rudik was speaking a foreign language.

One-thirty

He came out of Mother’s room. His eyes were rimmed red. Emilio, he said, calling for his bodyguard. Rudik said that Emilio was a masseur with some knowledge of medicine, he might know of some way to make Mother feel better. His stupid Western ideas, I thought, how could his medicine be any better than what we had already given Mother? I hated that monstrous man as he walked towards Mother’s room. What right did he have to interfere? I hissed at Rudik but he ignored me and slammed the door.

Two o’clock

The bodyguard came out. He smiled at me and spoke in a broken English that was impossible to understand. Finally he made gestures in the air. It seemed he was telling me that Mother must once have been a beautiful woman. I changed my mind about him, despite his ponytail. He took many helpings from the banquet table and made sounds to say that things were delicious. And then he sat quietly for the rest of the day.

Two-thirty

I entered. Mother was awake. Her eyes were fully open as if startled. Rudik was hunched over her and there were tears in his eyes. He was alternating between Russian and Tatar. Mother’s lips were moving but it was impossible to make out her words. Rudik reached for my hand. Tell her it’s me, Tamara, he said. She knows your voice. She still doesn’t know that it’s me. I leaned across and told Mother: It’s Rudik come back to see you. There was a flicker in her eyes although I did not know whether she understood. I will sit here until she recognizes me, said Rudik. I will not move. I pleaded with him to come out and enjoy the banquet but he said that he was not hungry. I pleaded again. No! he shouted. And then I did something that I will never forget. I slapped Rudik once on the side of the face. His head turned in the direction of the slap and he stared at the wall. I could not believe myself. The slap was so hard that it stung my hand. Rudik slowly turned his head and looked at me for an instant. Then he bent down to Mother again. I will come to your dinner table, Tamara, when I am ready. I closed the door. A terrible feeling went through me when I stepped into the living room. Nuriya was staring at her new wristwatch, which was loudly beeping. She couldn’t stop it.

Two-forty-five

Ilya filled the bodyguard’s plate once more. They drank kumis together. The bodyguard showed Ilya a game of sorts. The bodyguard plucked a hair from his head and then closed his eyes and told Ilya to place the hair between the pages of the book. With his eyes closed, the bodyguard started feeling the book with his fingers, lightly touching the pages. It was an old masseur’s trick which helped him keep his touch. The bodyguard was so good at the game that he could feel the hair eight pages away. The snow blew against the window.

Three o’clock

I created a plate for Rudik, pickled meat, cabbage salad, hard-boiled eggs. The door creaked when I opened it. I was surprised that he smiled at me. He seemed to have forgotten I had slapped him. There was something good in the air between us again, a distance had been bridged. Rudik did not eat the food but held the plate as if he might. Then he made room on the seat and I slid onto the chair beside him. We watched Mother’s lips moving minutely. Her hair was spread on the pillow. She’s saying your name, I said. What? he replied. I said: She’s saying your name, look at her. He paused a long time but then he began to nod vigorously. Yes, she’s saying my name. Just then he said something about the flags along the lake, about the radio and times when he would listen to music as a child. I couldn’t understand him, he was talking gibberish. I took his hand. The chair was awfully small for the two of us.