Christian Kiefer - The Infinite Tides

There was a long pause now, long enough that Keith lifted his head from the back of the sofa and looked over at Peter there, at his silhouette in the darkness. He wanted Peter to keep speaking if only because there was a story being told that was not his story and so did not involve the tiny cul-de-sac of his own life. There were other lives and other stories and he had forgotten this simple fact until this moment, in this night. “Must have been incredible,” he said and he hoped it would be enough because he did not want to speak; he only wanted to loll his head back on the sofa and drink his beer and feel the aftereffects of the painkillers as they mixed with the alcohol and drifted through him as he floated on the surface of Peter’s story like a man in a moonlit boat on a flat and silent sea.

“Yes, incredible,” Peter said. “The work was, but nothing else. We lived in apartment in Teremky, west of city. I took municipal bus to Golosiiv and sometimes this bus would not be there and I would have to walk mile to train. And pay is terrible. Luda was home whole time in apartment and she did not know what to do. Her family was across city. There was no car for us, so hard to get anywhere. Sometimes buses regular like clocks and other times they do not come, sometimes for days. You could walk under road in tunnel and you could even take baby carriage up and down stairs but maybe not two of them. Not by yourself. So you cannot get anywhere then. Not by yourself with children.”

And Keith could see it: the tunnel under the road, graffiti covering the walls. The concrete stairs. The rush of people coming and going.

“I would go to university in day and then Golosiiv and would work there in night with astronomers and in beginning I’m helping only with putting data in computer. There is little office there with very old computer and some equipment. No windows even, but I do not care. Dr. Federov there was in charge of data and I work for him for year and they think I’m doing good job and I keep asking questions and learning always and taking classes in daytime. Dr. Vanekov sees and recommends me to Dr. Kuzmenko and so I am work then for him and it is with telescope then. That is what I wanted. Dr. Kuzmenko even publish paper and thank me by name in this paper.”

“That’s great,” Keith said.

“Yes, I was very proud. That was later, after I was there for long time already.” Peter puffed at his pipe again and then stood in the cricket-filled silence that was no silence at all. The stars spinning around them. “It is difficult thing to keep going to school and to work when you have two small children.”

“I can understand that.”

“Yes, very difficult. Impossible for me, I think.” Quiet then. Peter returned to the sofa and sat.

“You want a beer?” Keith said.

“Yes, I will have beer.”

Keith reached down and pulled a bottle from its cardboard container and handed it across to Peter and then sipped at his again and leaned his head back.

The sounds of Peter opening his own beer and drinking. Then: “They made some discoveries too when I was there. Things I helped with. Dr. Kuzmenko worked on very new galaxies and he found blue dwarf galaxies, not very far away, and I helped him on finding that. Markarian 59 and 71. That is what they are called.”

He rested his head on the sofa again. The North Star high and Cassiopeia below its point but his eyes gazing straight up at the blaze of stars directly above. Peter’s life in the forest with the telescopes and dwarf galaxies that even now glow faintly somewhere in the night sky all around them. “So why did you leave?” he said at last.

“Ah, because of Luda and children.”

“She asked you to?”

“No, she would not do this. But I knew this is better. First university I had to stop because it took all daytime and then job at Golosiiv was not really job. It was like … how do you say … like assistant or something.”

“An internship?”

“Yes, like internship. But I knew I was good at this and I knew more than most who might have been hired there, but still they could not really hire me and then when they found out that I had quit university they could not keep me there anymore. So that was end of Golosiiv as well.”

“Shit,” Keith said.

“Yes, shit,” Peter said. “That is what this was. Fucking shit.”

“Fucking shit,” Keith repeated.

“Yes,” Peter said, as if considering. “They liked me there, I think. Dr. Kuzmenko tried to keep me on but this needed to be official. He could not change rules for me. I had no diploma for working. So someone else came in and works there for me.”

“That hurts,” Keith said.

“This is fucking shit.”

Keith laughed.

“Funny maybe,” Peter said.

“Fucking shit,” Keith said.

“Yes,” Peter said. A pause. Then: “Luda has brother with idea to come to America. Then her mother. Then finally Luda. And it seemed like maybe it would be better idea than whatever was in Ukraine. America is dream place for us. Like this. In my dream, things could happen like in Golosiiv. The scientists there wrote me letter of introduction to astronomers at American university so I thought there would be job waiting for me here. They told me that there was.”

“Who told you?”

“University here. Better pay than at Golosiiv and same kind of work. Laboratory assistant position and I can take classes for free. So I tell Luda that we will move to United States and she and her mother and her brother all are very happy to hear this. I am happy too because this looks like I have job at university.” His voice trailed off. Stopped. Silence now. Keith in his drunken, painkiller haze, head drifting against the sofa. Peter silent somewhere. The stars in their places. The stars everywhere.

“No job?” Keith said at last.

“What?”

“No job at the university?”

Peter quiet for a moment. Then: “No job.” A pause. “It is not so good here as we thought maybe. The economy like Ukraine. Lots of people losing jobs. Some of it good for us. We got here and we think it is very good because houses are cheap and they are everywhere for sale. Very good. But it is not good. It is same as Ukraine maybe. So many people with no jobs. The university does not hire me. University does not hire anyone.”

“Shit.”

“Yes, shit. That is right. Shit for me. So Luda’s brother gets job and so we do not even live by university anyway. We live here because Luda’s brother is dishwasher in restaurant and he has work here but he cannot even get me job washing dishes because there are no jobs now for anyone. Miracle maybe he has any job.”

“You wouldn’t want a job washing dishes anyway.”

“Maybe not but more money than Target.”

“I guess.”

“This is true. And he cleans up tables too and gets money for this.”

“Tips.”

“Yes, tips. That is money right into your pocket.”

Keith sipping at his beer. How many? He had lost count. “What about the college?”

“What about it?”

“You take classes there?”

“I take English there and I take all astronomy classes, but they do not have much.”

“No, I imagine it’s not like the telescope in Kiev.”

“They do not have telescope. Just this.” He pointed to the telescope: a collection of sharp angles against the deep blue sky. “They let me take this home because I take so many classes. But it is like toy really. Not real telescope. But I should not complain. At least I have this.”

“I guess so.”

“How do they say it? Beggars can’t be choosers? You have heard this?”

“Yes.”

“That is my life story. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Maybe that’s not true,” Keith said, his eyes closed now, so drunk that his voice came as a slurring, blurred mess of syllables, the consonants with their long flattened-out shapes, the vowels like the moaning of ghosts.