Nightmare
Chapter Three: Worth an Explanation
"My my my, what tasteful décor." Julian looked around your safe house approvingly. "I don't suppose there's any chance for a glass of some Chateau Petrus? Preferably1982?"
"It's too late for you to drink," I said.
Julian turned and gave me the look. I think you know the one, Rina. He was surprised when I smiled, not understanding the gift he'd bestowed on me. I'd never gotten the look before.
"Get Yelena out of the car and maybe I'll find some," you said. Julian turned towards the door with a mock sigh. "I get all the worst chores in this family."
Sydney giggled. Jack looked as though he was wondering if the situation could get any more surreal.
"I'll help you," I said, half-limping over to him. You started to protest, but, armed with a look of my own, I silenced you. Julian considered me as he held open the door.
"She should be coming to any minute now," he warned as we approached the car. He opened the rear passenger door and, as I leaned in to unbuckle her, she moaned and stirred. Her lids fluttered open, and she looked around. She still seemed only half-conscious as her eyes focused on me.
"Y-y-you!" She stuttered. "You ... you're ... how ..."
I pulled her out of the car, grateful that she was too weak and disoriented to struggle.
"Really, Yelena, I'm afraid your prowess as a spy leaves something to be desired. But then, it's not your fault the SVR trains its operatives so poorly. What else can one expect from a second-rate organization?"
"Bitch!"
I smiled grimly. "Love you too, dear." Julian laughed.
At this, Yelena's jaw tightened, and her eyes widened, revealing the fire of her anger as she struggled from my grasp, lashing out with a kick meant for Julian's head. Fortunately, her aim was still way off.
"Enough!" I grabbed the back of her neck, applying pressure to a key spot, and her body went limp as she lapsed into unconsciousness once more. How many times are we going to have to knock this girl out? Yeesh. Julian looked mildly impressed.
"Can you show me how to do that?"
"Maybe later. After we get your aunt in the house, we'll talk."
He looked at me warily, and raised an eyebrow. "About what, exactly?"
"Everything."
He swallowed, seeming unnerved. Then his expression changed, and he gave me a cool look. "And what if I don't feel especially inclined towards conversation?"
"Then you can just listen. And if you don't feel like listening, well, then I can guarantee you, you'll have no chance of Irina getting you that Chateau, to say the least."
He considered this for a moment, and then his features took on a yet another expression. It was very subtle, but all I could think was sulk. "Alright, now you're just not playing fair."
I suppressed a grin as I replied: "I never do." A little while later, after we had tended to Yelena's wounds as best we could, you were in conference with your husband and daughter at one end of the room. Your voices were low and serious. I smiled as I saw you reach for Jack's hand, apparently without even realizing what you were doing. He seemed to respond in the same unconscious manner, twining your fingers with his while his eyes remained on Sydney. Your daughter's gaze flicked quickly down, then up again, a slight smile appearing on her face as she looked at the two of you, nodding absently at something one or the other of you had said. "Ah, how love endures." He had noticed too. Julian's voice was as soft as it was mocking. He caught his eyes with mine, and shrugged. "Turn your head," he said more gently, and he applied an antibiotic to a gash over my eye. As he put a bandage on, I contemplated what I would say to him. "Julian – " "So how much younger is Yelena than you anyway? Oh, and do I have any other insane relatives I should watch out for? Not that she was exactly difficult to deal with. Still, it would be nice to have a little preemptive – " "Julian." "Do we really have to do this? I mean, can't we just leave all this lovely angst and familial drama to its own devices?" "Chateau Petrus, Julian." He sighed. "The things I do for a good drink." "All you have to do is listen for a while. Then, you can go have your drink, or hit me over the head, or whatever you want." His expression grew guarded again as I continued. I wasn't relishing the conversation either, but I knew I had to get it over with. "When I married your father," (I saw his jaw tighten), "it was not my intention to get pregnant." I looked away from him as I continued, afraid his eyes would silence me. "The only experience I had ever had in looking after a child was when I tended to your aunt Yelena, long ago. Yes, she is almost eight years younger than me. When I learned she had ... 'died,'" I smiled at the black irony of the word, "I knew there was more I could've done, should've done for her." "Suffice it to say, her, Irina, and I did not have the best of parents, or the most pleasant of childhoods, but supposedly, we had each other. Like Irina, I was recruited by the KGB at a very young age, and I lost track of the sister who separated from me by both miles and years – until, of course, it was too late." I glanced at Julian out of the corner of my eye to see how he was taking all this so far. He seemed attentive as I went on. "I tell you this not to gain your sympathy, but in the hopes that you can better understand why I had compunctions about raising a child of my own. Children were ... um ... supposed to have been a medical impossibility for me." His eyes probed mine questioningly as I continued, hurrying now to continue my narrative. "I was scared when you were born. I was afraid ... that I would fail you. Or ruin you." I shrugged, looking down, keeping my voice and my body steady. "And I knew I was a selfish person, used to focusing on my own needs, and not those of others. How could I possibly attend to a child?" I shook my head. "These concerns ... they did not vanish when you were put into my arms. Gradually, however, the reality of you, your overwhelming and remarkable presence in my life – it pushed my worries aside, made them part of the background noise in the everyday hum of my thoughts." "In this way, the first few years I spent with your father were pleasant enough. I fancied I saw myself in you, the qualities in me that I was pleased with, and proud of. Your father and I were both KGB operatives, and his diplomatic title worked well for our purposes. What went wrong between us ..." I took a breath. This was the hardest part. Julian's eyes were glued to my face, as if her were hanging on to my every word. "You need to know," I said, "that Andrian was, even for our times, very old- fashioned. I didn't realize it then, but I think he wanted me to quit active duty and confine myself to a domestic role after we 'settled down.'"
"He was displeased that I had a higher standing in the KGB than he did; I suppose he found it emasculating. Things came to a head when our superior, Alexander Khashinau, came to see us with a fairly simple assignment that Andrian thought was for him. Of course, it was mine." I smiled bitterly at the memory, recalling what I had done 'wrong.' "The fact that I had once been in a ... personal relationship ... with Khashinau," I paused, looking determinedly at the floor; I really didn't want to see the expression on my son's face when I revealed this to him, "only made things worse. I had never told your father, but it was not as though I meant to keep it secret. When he asked me point-blank, after I returned from my assignment, I did not lie to him. The truth left him," I swallowed, "displeased." "I remember his ... displeasure," he said in a low, deadly voice. Julian's hands had balled up into fists, and his eyes were bright with a cold rage. I plunged on, desperate now to finish. "I knew then that I had to get out. Out of the marriage, and away from Andrian. For my own well-being. But there was more to it than that. You see, Julian, I was as furious as you are, and, just as you did, I wanted revenge." He looked up at me, a cold gleam of excitement in his eyes. "I was patient. I let Andrian believe he had broken me to his will. After some time, I told him I was going to Moscow to resign from active duty. I had already concocted a plan with Alexander – I mean Khashinau – that would frame Andrian as a traitor and put him in a Siberian prison camp for the rest of his natural life." I thought I saw a look of grim satisfaction on my son's face as I spoke. "My one mistake – my greatest mistake – was not finding some way of taking you with me. I was so caught up in visiting my wrath upon your father that I failed to considered the repercussions of my actions in regards to you. I had planned to go back to London and get you after your father's sentencing but," I paused, "I had not counted on how far the influence of his family extended. If they had found me with you, they would have taken you away from me, and poisoned your mind against me. I couldn't stand for that. I figured if you were going to grow up to hate me, it would be better that you did it of your own volition." I sensed he wanted to speak now, but, as I was near the end of my explanation, I wanted to finish first. "When the Union fell, your father was released from prison, but I no longer feared for myself in regards to him, for his family was in shambles by then. I knew you'd already been in trouble with the law in London ... following in my footsteps, I suppose." I half-smiled. "Oh yes, I was a criminal before I was a patriot. Irina, too. So I sent her to get you, rationalizing that if you were going to choose this life, you could at least work for someone who'd always watch out for you. I could do that much for you, I thought. I was taking care of you in my own inept, second-hand way. You deserved better, but I did what seemed to make the most sense in an impossible situation." "What I can't forgive myself for is that I put my needs before yours, just as I had always feared I would. After I abandoned you, I knew I had no right to ask you for anything. Not your understanding, your loyalty, and certainly not your love." "I should never have let my need for revenge blind me to the fact that I was risking losing you forever. Maybe ... I could have found some way to work out my problems with you father. I could've stayed –" "No." My son's voice, though low, seemed to have so much force behind it that it was shaking. "I never would have wanted you stay there with him, to see you like that, doing what he wanted, saying what he ..." He stopped, and began again. "Even then, I couldn't have stood to see you. Not like that. Ever." This time I knew I could not hold him. My arms wouldn't even move as I felt the tears running down my face, soft and silent. "And now there are two things you need to know." He said, steadying his voice as he struggled to maintain his composure. "One: yes, you should've found a way to take me with you. I was always waiting for you to return. And I was still waiting for you, when Irina showed up in your stead." "Two: Of course you had, you have, no right to ask for my love. Assuming that I have any to give. I prefer to believe that I do, but, as I have inherited your penchant for self-interest, in all honesty it is difficult to tell. You didn't have a right. You had an obligation," I started to say something, but he stopped me, his voice rising. "No. It's your turn to listen now! You had a responsibility to ask. You understand? That's what you were supposed to do. Whether you would've been able to cope with the answer you received is entirely irrelevant. So don't mistake me. Don't think one embrace can stretch across the years and cancel them out. Just because I – I love you – that doesn't mean you're going to be forgiven. Ever." He had starting crying too. Just a little, but enough for me to curse myself for bringing him to tears. He gave a little laugh to try to mask this as he shook his head. "You know, I think you were right about the drink. It is too late. So I'll just be going to bed now." He stalked off to one of the smaller rooms, leaving me there, my eyes streaming. I have never been as stoic as you, Rina; still, I had not let myself cry in a long, long time. On the other side of the room, you and your family had fallen silent. I was peripherally aware of you murmuring something to Jack and Sydney, who retired to their own rooms as you came to sit by my side, taking your hands in mine. And you were just there. There was no call for words. When you saw that I was calming down, you silently led me to my own sleeping quarters, and before retiring yourself, you went to shoot our sister up with another tranquilizer, just as a precaution. Yelena. Someone else I needed to explain things to. Another conversation that I wasn't relishing. Still, I thought, as I slipped into some nightclothes and got in between the sheets, the worst is over. Of all the feelings tumbling around inside me, I picked out one, and held it in the center of my heart, hoping it would help me to dream of something pleasant, just for once. It was a feeling evoked by something Julian had just said. Putting aside the fact that I was terminally unforgiven, I remembered that, in the midst of his pain and rage, he had also said I love you.
Chapter Three: Worth an Explanation
"My my my, what tasteful décor." Julian looked around your safe house approvingly. "I don't suppose there's any chance for a glass of some Chateau Petrus? Preferably1982?"
"It's too late for you to drink," I said.
Julian turned and gave me the look. I think you know the one, Rina. He was surprised when I smiled, not understanding the gift he'd bestowed on me. I'd never gotten the look before.
"Get Yelena out of the car and maybe I'll find some," you said. Julian turned towards the door with a mock sigh. "I get all the worst chores in this family."
Sydney giggled. Jack looked as though he was wondering if the situation could get any more surreal.
"I'll help you," I said, half-limping over to him. You started to protest, but, armed with a look of my own, I silenced you. Julian considered me as he held open the door.
"She should be coming to any minute now," he warned as we approached the car. He opened the rear passenger door and, as I leaned in to unbuckle her, she moaned and stirred. Her lids fluttered open, and she looked around. She still seemed only half-conscious as her eyes focused on me.
"Y-y-you!" She stuttered. "You ... you're ... how ..."
I pulled her out of the car, grateful that she was too weak and disoriented to struggle.
"Really, Yelena, I'm afraid your prowess as a spy leaves something to be desired. But then, it's not your fault the SVR trains its operatives so poorly. What else can one expect from a second-rate organization?"
"Bitch!"
I smiled grimly. "Love you too, dear." Julian laughed.
At this, Yelena's jaw tightened, and her eyes widened, revealing the fire of her anger as she struggled from my grasp, lashing out with a kick meant for Julian's head. Fortunately, her aim was still way off.
"Enough!" I grabbed the back of her neck, applying pressure to a key spot, and her body went limp as she lapsed into unconsciousness once more. How many times are we going to have to knock this girl out? Yeesh. Julian looked mildly impressed.
"Can you show me how to do that?"
"Maybe later. After we get your aunt in the house, we'll talk."
He looked at me warily, and raised an eyebrow. "About what, exactly?"
"Everything."
He swallowed, seeming unnerved. Then his expression changed, and he gave me a cool look. "And what if I don't feel especially inclined towards conversation?"
"Then you can just listen. And if you don't feel like listening, well, then I can guarantee you, you'll have no chance of Irina getting you that Chateau, to say the least."
He considered this for a moment, and then his features took on a yet another expression. It was very subtle, but all I could think was sulk. "Alright, now you're just not playing fair."
I suppressed a grin as I replied: "I never do." A little while later, after we had tended to Yelena's wounds as best we could, you were in conference with your husband and daughter at one end of the room. Your voices were low and serious. I smiled as I saw you reach for Jack's hand, apparently without even realizing what you were doing. He seemed to respond in the same unconscious manner, twining your fingers with his while his eyes remained on Sydney. Your daughter's gaze flicked quickly down, then up again, a slight smile appearing on her face as she looked at the two of you, nodding absently at something one or the other of you had said. "Ah, how love endures." He had noticed too. Julian's voice was as soft as it was mocking. He caught his eyes with mine, and shrugged. "Turn your head," he said more gently, and he applied an antibiotic to a gash over my eye. As he put a bandage on, I contemplated what I would say to him. "Julian – " "So how much younger is Yelena than you anyway? Oh, and do I have any other insane relatives I should watch out for? Not that she was exactly difficult to deal with. Still, it would be nice to have a little preemptive – " "Julian." "Do we really have to do this? I mean, can't we just leave all this lovely angst and familial drama to its own devices?" "Chateau Petrus, Julian." He sighed. "The things I do for a good drink." "All you have to do is listen for a while. Then, you can go have your drink, or hit me over the head, or whatever you want." His expression grew guarded again as I continued. I wasn't relishing the conversation either, but I knew I had to get it over with. "When I married your father," (I saw his jaw tighten), "it was not my intention to get pregnant." I looked away from him as I continued, afraid his eyes would silence me. "The only experience I had ever had in looking after a child was when I tended to your aunt Yelena, long ago. Yes, she is almost eight years younger than me. When I learned she had ... 'died,'" I smiled at the black irony of the word, "I knew there was more I could've done, should've done for her." "Suffice it to say, her, Irina, and I did not have the best of parents, or the most pleasant of childhoods, but supposedly, we had each other. Like Irina, I was recruited by the KGB at a very young age, and I lost track of the sister who separated from me by both miles and years – until, of course, it was too late." I glanced at Julian out of the corner of my eye to see how he was taking all this so far. He seemed attentive as I went on. "I tell you this not to gain your sympathy, but in the hopes that you can better understand why I had compunctions about raising a child of my own. Children were ... um ... supposed to have been a medical impossibility for me." His eyes probed mine questioningly as I continued, hurrying now to continue my narrative. "I was scared when you were born. I was afraid ... that I would fail you. Or ruin you." I shrugged, looking down, keeping my voice and my body steady. "And I knew I was a selfish person, used to focusing on my own needs, and not those of others. How could I possibly attend to a child?" I shook my head. "These concerns ... they did not vanish when you were put into my arms. Gradually, however, the reality of you, your overwhelming and remarkable presence in my life – it pushed my worries aside, made them part of the background noise in the everyday hum of my thoughts." "In this way, the first few years I spent with your father were pleasant enough. I fancied I saw myself in you, the qualities in me that I was pleased with, and proud of. Your father and I were both KGB operatives, and his diplomatic title worked well for our purposes. What went wrong between us ..." I took a breath. This was the hardest part. Julian's eyes were glued to my face, as if her were hanging on to my every word. "You need to know," I said, "that Andrian was, even for our times, very old- fashioned. I didn't realize it then, but I think he wanted me to quit active duty and confine myself to a domestic role after we 'settled down.'"
"He was displeased that I had a higher standing in the KGB than he did; I suppose he found it emasculating. Things came to a head when our superior, Alexander Khashinau, came to see us with a fairly simple assignment that Andrian thought was for him. Of course, it was mine." I smiled bitterly at the memory, recalling what I had done 'wrong.' "The fact that I had once been in a ... personal relationship ... with Khashinau," I paused, looking determinedly at the floor; I really didn't want to see the expression on my son's face when I revealed this to him, "only made things worse. I had never told your father, but it was not as though I meant to keep it secret. When he asked me point-blank, after I returned from my assignment, I did not lie to him. The truth left him," I swallowed, "displeased." "I remember his ... displeasure," he said in a low, deadly voice. Julian's hands had balled up into fists, and his eyes were bright with a cold rage. I plunged on, desperate now to finish. "I knew then that I had to get out. Out of the marriage, and away from Andrian. For my own well-being. But there was more to it than that. You see, Julian, I was as furious as you are, and, just as you did, I wanted revenge." He looked up at me, a cold gleam of excitement in his eyes. "I was patient. I let Andrian believe he had broken me to his will. After some time, I told him I was going to Moscow to resign from active duty. I had already concocted a plan with Alexander – I mean Khashinau – that would frame Andrian as a traitor and put him in a Siberian prison camp for the rest of his natural life." I thought I saw a look of grim satisfaction on my son's face as I spoke. "My one mistake – my greatest mistake – was not finding some way of taking you with me. I was so caught up in visiting my wrath upon your father that I failed to considered the repercussions of my actions in regards to you. I had planned to go back to London and get you after your father's sentencing but," I paused, "I had not counted on how far the influence of his family extended. If they had found me with you, they would have taken you away from me, and poisoned your mind against me. I couldn't stand for that. I figured if you were going to grow up to hate me, it would be better that you did it of your own volition." I sensed he wanted to speak now, but, as I was near the end of my explanation, I wanted to finish first. "When the Union fell, your father was released from prison, but I no longer feared for myself in regards to him, for his family was in shambles by then. I knew you'd already been in trouble with the law in London ... following in my footsteps, I suppose." I half-smiled. "Oh yes, I was a criminal before I was a patriot. Irina, too. So I sent her to get you, rationalizing that if you were going to choose this life, you could at least work for someone who'd always watch out for you. I could do that much for you, I thought. I was taking care of you in my own inept, second-hand way. You deserved better, but I did what seemed to make the most sense in an impossible situation." "What I can't forgive myself for is that I put my needs before yours, just as I had always feared I would. After I abandoned you, I knew I had no right to ask you for anything. Not your understanding, your loyalty, and certainly not your love." "I should never have let my need for revenge blind me to the fact that I was risking losing you forever. Maybe ... I could have found some way to work out my problems with you father. I could've stayed –" "No." My son's voice, though low, seemed to have so much force behind it that it was shaking. "I never would have wanted you stay there with him, to see you like that, doing what he wanted, saying what he ..." He stopped, and began again. "Even then, I couldn't have stood to see you. Not like that. Ever." This time I knew I could not hold him. My arms wouldn't even move as I felt the tears running down my face, soft and silent. "And now there are two things you need to know." He said, steadying his voice as he struggled to maintain his composure. "One: yes, you should've found a way to take me with you. I was always waiting for you to return. And I was still waiting for you, when Irina showed up in your stead." "Two: Of course you had, you have, no right to ask for my love. Assuming that I have any to give. I prefer to believe that I do, but, as I have inherited your penchant for self-interest, in all honesty it is difficult to tell. You didn't have a right. You had an obligation," I started to say something, but he stopped me, his voice rising. "No. It's your turn to listen now! You had a responsibility to ask. You understand? That's what you were supposed to do. Whether you would've been able to cope with the answer you received is entirely irrelevant. So don't mistake me. Don't think one embrace can stretch across the years and cancel them out. Just because I – I love you – that doesn't mean you're going to be forgiven. Ever." He had starting crying too. Just a little, but enough for me to curse myself for bringing him to tears. He gave a little laugh to try to mask this as he shook his head. "You know, I think you were right about the drink. It is too late. So I'll just be going to bed now." He stalked off to one of the smaller rooms, leaving me there, my eyes streaming. I have never been as stoic as you, Rina; still, I had not let myself cry in a long, long time. On the other side of the room, you and your family had fallen silent. I was peripherally aware of you murmuring something to Jack and Sydney, who retired to their own rooms as you came to sit by my side, taking your hands in mine. And you were just there. There was no call for words. When you saw that I was calming down, you silently led me to my own sleeping quarters, and before retiring yourself, you went to shoot our sister up with another tranquilizer, just as a precaution. Yelena. Someone else I needed to explain things to. Another conversation that I wasn't relishing. Still, I thought, as I slipped into some nightclothes and got in between the sheets, the worst is over. Of all the feelings tumbling around inside me, I picked out one, and held it in the center of my heart, hoping it would help me to dream of something pleasant, just for once. It was a feeling evoked by something Julian had just said. Putting aside the fact that I was terminally unforgiven, I remembered that, in the midst of his pain and rage, he had also said I love you.
