Lara Vapnyar - Still Here

Sergey went back to Hamlet.

That ghost was kind of nasty, wasn’t he? He got the precious chance to speak with his son some more, but instead of providing him with some valuable guidance or simply saying some words of affection, he said some cruel shit about Hamlet’s mother and demanded that Hamlet destroy his life by settling his father’s scores. Some people were probably better left dead.

And just then he heard a melodic ring. Skype’s sweet little icon appeared on his screen, a smiling female face in the frame. “Sejun Ku is calling you,” the icon insisted. If it had said “Sejun Ku is calling Vadim Kalugin,” Sergey might have resisted the urge to pick up, but it said “calling you.” He picked up.

“Vadik?” Sejun said.

“No, it’s his friend Sergey,” Sergey said and turned on the video.

“Oh, Sergey! I’m happy to see you again.” Sejun’s bright if a little fuzzy smile confirmed the sentiment.

Sergey told her that Vadik was at work.

“But today’s Friday,” Sejun said. “On Fridays he works from home.”

“He quit that working from home thing about a month ago,” Sergey said. “It’s easier for him to concentrate when he is in his office.”

Sejun said that she hated to work from an office. She was doing web design for a small start-up in Silicon Valley. The work was boring, but they let her work from home.

Small talk ensued that quickly grew in size and significance.

Sergey explained why he was living at Vadik’s at the moment. He said that he had lost his job and his wife.

Sejun said how sorry she was to hear that. She asked if he was dating.

He said that he hadn’t been, not that much, not really, but he had met a girl at a barbecue restaurant of all places.

Sejun said that she was taking a break from dating at the moment. Wasn’t dating exhausting? she asked. Especially breakups. Having to admit that you didn’t like someone anymore or perhaps had never liked him that much in the first place. Having to explain yourself, having to come up with an explanation. That was draining, wasn’t it?

Sergey started to tell her what went wrong with him and Vica, but he thought he detected a bored sigh on Sejun’s end. Did he sound whiny, pathetic, loserlike? Oh, yes, he did. He hurried to change the subject and said that he’d been working on his app full-time, and it was going really well. In fact, he was almost finished with the prototype.

“Virtual Grave? I loved that idea!” Sejun said. Sergey blushed with pleasure because she had remembered. He told her how the app was shaping up to be completely different from its original conception. He told her how exciting that was. He quoted Hamlet’s dying words.

Sejun stretched on her sofa and sighed. She seemed to be entranced.

“ ‘The rest is silence’?” she repeated after Sergey.

“ ‘The rest is silence,’ ” he said.

“But does it have to be?”

“Excuse me?” he asked.

Sejun removed her glasses, jumped off her couch, and assumed a stage actress’s pose (chin up, straight back, hands folded on the level of her pelvis).

“The rest is silence, but does it have to be?” she recited with great feeling.

Then she put her glasses back on and smiled at Sergey.

“You can use it for your sales pitch.”

Sergey stared at her, incredulous.

“Trust me, they love that cutesy shit,” Sejun said and started to laugh. Sergey joined her.

They talked for fifty-two more minutes until Sejun said that she had to do some work. Only then did Sergey remember to ask her why she called Vadik in the first place.

Her brother was going to visit New York in a month, Sejun said. She wondered if Vadik would let him stay at his place. “I guess not, since you’re living there?” she asked, and Sergey said, “Why not, he can sleep on the couch!” Sejun thanked him and said that she’d think about it.

Then she pressed End Call and her face vanished from the screen with an impish beep.

Sergey stared at the empty Skype screen for a moment longer: “Call from Sejun Ku, duration 02:08.” There it was, the proof that he hadn’t dreamed up this encounter. Was his heart really beating that fast? He took his own pulse — yes, it was.

Then he went back to the desk and he typed it in 12-point Courier New:

“The rest is silence, but does it have to be?”

Throughout the day, Sergey debated if he should tell Vadik about Sejun’s call. But when Vadik finally came home, he was in such a bad mood that Sergey decided to wait. Vadik barely looked at Sergey, and instead of cooking dinner for them, he fixed himself a ham sandwich — a slab of ham on a slice of bread — and plopped on the couch in front of the TV. He watched CNN for about an hour, then made himself another sandwich and put on The Wolverine . Sergey had always hated fantasy, but he decided to keep Vadik company. He made himself a sandwich too — he put a few slices of onion on his — and sat down in Sejun’s whimsical embroidered chair that stood next to the sofa. He thought it would be nice to sit like this, watch a movie together, eat their sandwiches. But Vadik wouldn’t even look at him, wouldn’t even register his presence except to wince whenever Sergey took a crunchy bite. Sergey had to admit that he hadn’t felt that comfortable or that welcome at Vadik’s for a while. Vadik had taken him in with such eagerness and warmth, but Sergey hadn’t expected anything less, because he would’ve done the same for Vadik. In fact, he had done the same for Vadik. All those times when Vadik would suddenly discover that he couldn’t spend a second more in a particular apartment, or with a girl he was seeing, he would come and stay at Sergey’s. Not for long, just a couple of days, a week at most, until he found something new. Sergey was always happy to house Vadik, and Vica was just as eager to welcome him. Too eager, in fact. There was one time when Sergey thought that something might have happened between them, but the thought was too scary and upsetting to take any further.

Now it felt as if Vadik was getting increasingly disappointed in his company. And there was the question of money. Sergey couldn’t possibly offer him any. You don’t offer money to your best friend when he takes you in. Plus, Vadik knew that Sergey was sending most of his unemployment checks to Vica so that she could pay the mortgage. Sergey did try to buy groceries at least. But Vadik just wouldn’t accept that. His first week at Vadik’s, Sergey went shopping and came back loaded with the food that he usually bought for Vica. Every single item annoyed the hell out of Vadik.

No, he didn’t eat McIntosh apples. And yes, there was a huge difference between organic and nonorganic yogurt. And nobody in his right mind would buy meat loaded with antibiotics and hormones. And Starbucks coffee wasn’t even drinkable!

So, yes, it was clear, Vadik didn’t like his shopping for food. So Sergey stopped doing it. But then there was the issue of toilet paper. Sergey had asked Vadik to buy the ultra-strength kind. The same brand — it wasn’t more expensive, just stronger. And it wasn’t like there was something wrong with Sergey’s ass that it required special treatment; ultra-strong was simply better. Vadik had grudgingly agreed. But the last time he went shopping, Vadik came home with twelve rolls of something called Tenderlicious, some new brand that literally dissolved in your fingers before you even brought it to your ass. “It was on sale” was all the explanation he offered.

And what about those few times when they went out together? Sergey would reach for his wallet, but Vadik would stop him and say that he would pay for the meal. It was as if the sight of Sergey’s scratched credit card embarrassed him. The worst thing was that after the meal Vadik would barely talk to Sergey and hang around the apartment with the sulky expression of somebody who had just been manipulated into doing something he didn’t want to do. Lately, he wore that expression pretty much all the time.