Ch 38 Reunion
"That's what I thought." Ivan looked at those dark round eyes, "Although I can't understand a word."
"You don't need to understand the poem," He turned around with his back facing Ivan, "All you need to know is that it's about me…"
Ivan stepped up to him and surround his left arm around Wang Yao's chest, pulling that lean figure into his embrace. His right hand picked up the canvas roll from the desk where he placed as he first entered the room. He gently loosened Wang Yao's clenched fist and placed the canvas roll in his palm.
"Of course it's you. How could it not be you!"
The painting unfolded in Wang Yao's hand.
"Yes, Vanechka… This is me." Wang Yao's shoulder trembled in his arms, "This is me!"
"It only took me one night to paint you. I thought I could never see you again."
This was him! This was life itself! And this was the portrait of his beloved one composed last night amongst mourning the dead and welcoming the newborn. That night, all the inspirations between the horizons came to the humble room where the young artist was and condensed under his eyes, his brush and his heart into the face of his lover. That night, the young artist didn't know that dawn would arrange them to meet again and then, the next, would grant them parting once more.
"I really didn't want to paint you eyes." Ivan maintained his posture allowing Wang Yao to lean in his arms, "In your words, perhaps, I was finally willing to let you go…"
He felt that Wang Yao wanted to turn around and look at him. So he tensed up his hands, not letting the person in his arms to move, preventing those dark round eyes from looking into his heart. They stood facing the open window for who knows how long. The heavy snow floated on top of this silent street was like a screen of white muslin. Cold wind brought snowflakes onto their heads and shoulders, as if a dragon was letting them know about its departure.
"Let go of me, Vanya."
He released his arms, defeated and watched Wang Yao closing the window.
Wang Yao carefully folded the painting, unbuttoned the jacket and put it inside his chest pocket. Then, he took out a pendant from his neck. The pendant was wrapped around with a delicate cloth bag so one could not see what was inside.
Ivan didn't remember seeing this amulet thing on Wang Yao. Before he could ask, Wang Yao's hands brushed through his hair and neck, and put the pendant on his neck.
"Wear it! I have a little friend here. Yesterday she was deteremined to give it to me as a souvenir."
Ivan answered half-jealously, "The little girl was in love with you, but you gave her love-token to someone else."
"Listen to yourself!" Wang Yao laughed and shook his head. After a while, he was reluctant to add, "She said that it can bring you safety and happiness. She used it to find lovers for other people…"
"So it brought you to me?" Ivan placed the juju in his palm and carefully examined the little bag. "Then I must see what this little thingy looks like."
"You can't open the bag. She said that you must wait till the day of victory." Wang Yao covered Ivan's palm from below and said formally, "So, live till the day of victory, Vanya!"
Ivan grabbed that slender wrist but his dragging voice had a hint of blame. "Ah—ha—good. Very good. What about yourself?"
"Oh you…Aren't these enough…" Wang Yao took out three things from his shirt pocket and arranged them on the desk with great care.
The first thing was a small photo. It was a memento with his mother and sister before Wang Yao left the country.
The second thing was a small piece of starry sky. The "road of scouts" extended to faraway from the small piece of paper. It was created by the young astronomy student Toris, depicting the brilliant starry night when Ivan carried Wang Yao back to the base.
The third thing was a carefully folded canvas. It was himself under his lover's brush.
All the pure love of family, friend and lover adhered to this dark-haird man's heart—a soldier's fervent heart—that would accompany him for the long and difficult years of war in the future.
Ivan picked up the small photo. The three people on the photo were unfamiliar but amiable. Three years ago, Wang Yao was only fifteen or sixteen years old—the contour of his face was gentler than now and there was a sense of childishness in those eyes. Beside him was a little girl about nine years old. Her dark hair was braided into two pigtails and those big glittering eyes were very lovable. Ivan wanted to look more of this little girl, but his eyes stayed on Wang Yao's mother for a long time.
There were such women in the world that beneath their smile there always remained unresolvable sadness that could not be removed or solaced. They were apt to divert burdens and pains from other people onto themselves, bearing it all alone but still appeared dignified. Thus, in their eyes there was always a strength as if possessing complete insight of everything but chose to keep silent—a look of comtemplation and solitude. Like what he had seen in Wang Yao's eyes. This look fell into his eyes in an instant and had remaind there for seventy years.
"You're so much like your mother." Ivan murmured, "Especially those eyes…"
"Guess how old she is, Vanya? Looks like almost fifty? But in fact, she's not yet forty this year." Wang Yao sighed, "I still remember your mother. She looks almost like a grandma, but she must be younger…"
"Only forty-eight… You're right. Mothers get old fast… " Suddenly, Ivan hugged his shoulder and said excitedly beside his ears, "You didn't know how much my mother worried about you… She was so happy that she cried when she knew I saved you… "
The snow stopped in the evening.
As required by light control, Ivan first closed the window and the curtain, then switched on the desk lamp. But as soon as the orange light filled the small room, he suddenly lifted a corner of the curtain and placed his forehead on the window glass like a little boy, silently gazing over the dark night outside.
"Like what you said…how much I want to live to the victory day!" Ivan turned around and spoke with an almost ferocious tone, "I will open all the windows and turn on all the lights and take a good look at Moscow in bright lights. Wait and see. On that day, nobody in Moscow will turn off the light."
"Let's not talk about the future. Vanya, do you know what day is it today?"
"February 14, an ordinary day. What for?"
"In my country, today is the New Year's Eve." Wang Yao's eyes contained a distant joyfulness, "Today is when all the families reunite. Nobody turn off the lights."
Ivan smiled bitterly, "When the war's over, you'll reunite with your mother…"
"Listen, Vanya!" Wang Yao clenched his hand, "I'm really, really thankful to spend this New Year's Eve with you together...and I must tell you—"
—"You look so much like your mother! Vanya, especially those eyes."
…
"You're tired, Vanya. Go to sleep…"
"Why would I sleep? Why? When I wake up, we will have to say goodbye…"
"I already find a solution, for real! When you wake up, goodbye will have nothing to do with us. I promise…"
"Really?"
"Why would I lie to you? Vanya, go sleep…"
"Fine, but you'll need to sleep with me!"
"Same as I thought…"
"So you agree, Yao! Aren't you afraid that I might treat you like a girl in the middle of the night…"
"…Well, I'll forgive this joke of yours…although it's your worst one yet…"
"Why you stop talking, my naughty little white horse?"
"I know you never treat me as a girl, never! You said that to me before. Where could you find a girl that's as good as me…"