102
" WHAT did it cost the soul to lie? At every step, with every breath, with every Soviet Information Bureau report, with every casualty list and every monthly ration card? From the moment Tatiana woke up until she fell into a bleary sleep, she lied. She wished Alexander would stop coming around. Lies. She wished he would end it with Dasha. Alas. More lies. No more trips to St. Isaac’s. That was good news. Lies. No more tram rides, no more canals, no more Summer Garden, no more Luga, no more lips or eyes or palpitating breath. Good. Good. Good. More lies. He was cold. He had an uncanny ability to act as if there were nothing behind his smiling face, or his steady hands, or his burned-down cigarette. Not a twitch showed on his face for Tatiana. That was good. Lies. Curfew was imposed on Leningrad at the beginning of September. Rations were reduced again. Alexander stopped coming every day. That was good. More lies. When Alexander came, he was extremely affectionate with Dasha, in front of Tatiana and in front of Dimitri. That was good. Lies. Tatiana put on her own brave face and turned it away and smiled at Dimitri and clenched her heart in a tight fist. She could do it, too. More lies. Pouring tea. Such a simple matter, yet fraught with deceit. Pouring tea, for someone else before him. Her hands trembled with the effort. Tatiana wished she could get out from the spell that was Leningrad at the beginning of September, get out from the circle of misery and love that besieged her. She loved Alexander. Ah, finally. Something true to hold on to. "
― Paullina Simons , The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman, #1)
104
" Alexander looked her over up and down. Tatiana exuded a porous, evanescent, yet everlasting warmth; her very presence, her satin face in his palm made his back hurt less. Her radiant eyes, her flushed cheeks, her slightly parted loving lips…Alexander stared at her, his eyes wide open, his soul wide open, his adoring heart hurting exquisitely. “You are an angel sent from heaven, aren’t you?” An electric smile lit up her face. “And you don’t know the half of it,” she whispered. “You don’t know what your Tania has been cooking up here.” In her delight she nearly squealed. “What have you been cooking up? No, don’t sit up. I want to feel your face.” “Shura, I can’t. I’m practically on top of you. We need to be very careful.” The smile faded an octave. “Dimitri walks around here all the time. Walks in, out, checks on you, leaves, comes back. What’s he worried about? He was quite surprised to find me here.” “He’s not the only one. How did you get here?” “All part of my plan, Alexander.” “What plan is this, Tatiana?” She whispered, “To be with you when I die of old age.” “Oh, that plan. "
― Paullina Simons , The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman, #1)
105
" Soldier! Let me cradle your head and caress your face, let me kiss your dear sweet lips and cry across the seas and whisper through the icy Russian grass how I feel for you…Luga, Ladoga, Leningrad, Lazarevo…Alexander, once you carried me, and now I carry you. Into my eternity, now I carry you. Through Finland, through Sweden, to America, hand outstretched, I stand and limp forward, the galloping steed black and riderless in my wake. Your heart, your rifle, they will comfort me, they’ll be my cradle and my grave. Lazarevo drips you into my soul, dawn drop by moonlight drop from the river Kama. When you look for me, look for me there, because that’s where I will be all the days of my life. “Shura, I can’t bear the thought of you dying,” Tatiana said to him when they were lying on the blanket, having made love by the fire in the dewy morning. “I can’t bear the thought of you not breathing in this world.” “I’m not crazy about the thought of that myself.” Alexander grinned. “I’m not going to die. You said so yourself. You said I was meant for great things.” “You are meant for great things,” she replied. “But you better keep yourself alive for me, soldier, because I can’t continue to live without you.” That’s what she said, looking up into his face, her hands on his beating heart. He bent down and kissed her freckles. “You can’t continue? My cartwheeling queen of Lake Ilmen?” Smiling, he shook his head. “You will find a way to live without me. You will find a way to live for both of us,” Alexander said to Tatiana as the swelling Kama River flowed from the Ural Mountains through a pine village named Lazarevo, once when they were in love, and young. "
― Paullina Simons , The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman, #1)
106
" Tania, we desperately need to have a minute,” he said. “And you know it.” She knew it. “This isn’t right.” “It’s the only thing that’s right.” “All right. Go.” “Will you come?” “I will try. Now, go.” “Lift your—” Before he stopped speaking, Tatiana raised her face to him. They kissed deeply. “Do you have any idea what I feel?” Alexander whispered, his hands in her hair. “No,” Tatiana replied, holding on to him, her legs numb. “I only have an idea what I feel. "
― Paullina Simons , The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman, #1)
107
" Llevara el nombre de su padre: Anthony Alexander Barrington. ¡Soldado! Deja que acune tu cabeza y acaricie tu rostro, déjame que bese tus queridos y dulces labios, que llore a través de los mares y que susurre a través de la helada tierra rusa lo que siento por ti... Luga, Ladoga, Leningrado, Lazarevo... Alexander, una vez me llevaste a mí, y ahora yo te cargo a mi eternidad.
A través de Finlandia, a través de Suecia, a Estados Unidos, con la mano extendida, me levanto y avanzo, con el corcel negro al galope y sin jinete en mi estela. Tu corazón, tu fusil, me consolarán, serán mi cuna y mi tumba.
Lazarevo te trae a mi alma, en los amaneceres y en las noches de luna junto al Kama. Cuando me busques, búscame allí, porque es allí donde estaré todos los días de mi vida. "
― Paullina Simons , The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman, #1)
115
" Shura,” she whispered, “don’t you see? Our baby is a sign from God.” “It is?” “Absolutely,” she said, her face sparkling. Suddenly Alexander understood. “That’s the radiance,” he exclaimed. “That’s why you’re like a flame walking through this hospital. It’s the baby!” “Yes,” she said. “This is what is meant for us. Think about Lazarevo—how many times did we make love in those twenty-nine days?” “I don’t know.” He smiled. “How many? How many zeros follow the twenty-nine?” She laughed quietly. “Two or three. We made love to wake the dead, and yet I didn’t get pregnant. You come to see me for one weekend, and here I am—how do you say, up the stick?” Alexander laughed loudly. “Thank you for that. But, Tania, I want to remind you, we did make love quite a bit that weekend, too.” “Yes.” They stared at each other for a silent, unsmiling moment. Alexander knew. They had both felt too close to death that gray weekend in Leningrad. And, yet, here it was— As if to confirm what he was thinking, Tatiana said, “This is God telling us to go. Can’t you feel that, too? He is saying, this is your destiny! I will not let anything happen to Tatiana, as long as she has Alexander’s baby inside her.” “Oh?” said Alexander, his hands tenderly stroking her stomach. “God is saying that, is He? Why don’t you tell that to the woman in the Ladoga truck with you and Dasha, holding her dead baby all the way from the barracks across to Kobona?” “I feel stronger now than ever,” Tatiana said, hugging him. “Where is your famous faith, big man? "
― Paullina Simons , The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman, #1)
117
" Deda kissed her on the forehaed. "There are difficult days ahead for all of us. Ahead of you particularly, Tania. You and Dasha. Now that Pasha is not here, your parents need you more than ever. Your mettle will be tested, along with everyone else's. There will be only one standard, the standard of survial at all cost, and it will be up to you to say at what price survival. Hold your head high, and if you're going to go down, go down knowing you have not in any way compromised your soul."
Pulling him by the arm, Babushka said, "That's enough. Tania, you do whatever you have to do to survive, and damn your soul. We expect to see you in Molotov next month."
"Never compromise on what your heart tells you to be right, my granddaughter," Deda said, getting up and hugging her. "You hear me?"
"Loud and clear, Deda," Tatiana said, hugging him back. "
― Paullina Simons , The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman, #1)
118
" She turned to him, lifted her eyes, and smiled. “Want to hear a joke?” “Dying to.” “A soldier is being led to his execution,” Tatiana began. “‘Some bad weather we’re having,’ he says to his convoy. ‘Look who’s complaining,’ they say. ‘We have to go back.’” Alexander laughed so instantly and loudly, his merry eyes never leaving her face, that Tatiana felt herself—just a little bit—melting within. “That’s funny, Tania,” he said. “Thank you.” She smiled and said quickly, “I have another joke: ‘General, what do you think about the upcoming battle?’” Alexander said, “I know this one. The general says, ‘God knows it will be lost.’” Tatiana continued, “‘Then why should we try?’” And Alexander finished, “‘To find out who is the loser.’” They both smiled and looked away from each other. “Your straps are untied,” she heard him say. “My what?” “Your straps. At the back of the dress. They’ve come undone. Here, turn your back to me a little more. I’ll tie them for you.” She turned her back to him and felt his fingers pulling on the satin ribbons. “How tight do you want them?” “That’s good,” she said hoarsely, not breathing. It occurred to her that he must be seeing down to the small of her bare back underneath the straps, and she became suddenly and keenly self-conscious. "
― Paullina Simons , The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman, #1)
119
" But every single day after work Tatiana brushed her hair and ran outside, thinking, please be there, and every single day after work Alexander was. Though he never asked her to go to the Summer Garden anymore or to sit on the bench under the trees with him, his hat was always in his hands. Exhausted and slow, they meandered from tram to canal to tram, reluctantly parting at Grechesky Prospekt, three blocks away from her apartment building. During their walks sometimes they talked about Alexander’s America or his life in Moscow, and sometimes they talked about Tatiana’s Lake Ilmen and her summers in Luga, and sometimes they chatted about the war, though less and less because of the anxiety over Pasha, and sometimes Alexander taught Tatiana a little English. Sometimes they told jokes, and sometimes they barely spoke at all. A few times Alexander let Tatiana carry his rifle as a balancing stick while she walked a high ledge on the side of Obvodnoy Canal. “Don’t fall into the water, Tania,” he once said, “because I can’t swim.” “Is that true?” she asked incredulously, nearly toppling over. Grabbing the end of his rifle to steady her, Alexander said with a grin, “Let’s not find out, shall we? I don’t want to lose my weapon.” “That’s all right,” Tatiana said, precariously teetering on the ledge and laughing. “I can swim perfectly well. I’ll save your weapon for you. Want to see?” “No, thank you.” And sometimes, when Alexander talked, Tatiana found her lower jaw drifting down and was suddenly and awkwardly aware that she had been staring at him so long that her mouth had dropped open. She didn’t know what to look at when he talked—his caramel eyes that blinked and smiled and shined and were grim or his vibrant mouth that moved and opened and breathed and spoke. Her eyes darted from his eyes to his lips and circled from his hair to his jaw as if they were afraid she would miss something if she didn’t stare at everything all at once. There were some pieces of his fascinating life that Alexander did not wish to talk about—and didn’t. Not about the last time he saw his father, not about how he became Alexander Belov, not about how he received his medal of valor. Tatiana didn’t care and never did more than gently press him. She would take from him what he needed to give her and wait impatiently for the rest. "
― Paullina Simons , The Bronze Horseman (The Bronze Horseman, #1)
