projectile assembly line.
Late in the day the nail gun broke, and Tatiana had to nail the crates shut with a hammer. By seven her back and her arm ached.
Tatiana and Zina walked along the Kirov wall, and before she got to the bus stop, Tatiana saw Alexander’s black-haired head rising above the tide of others.
“I have to go,” Tatiana said, losing a breath and speeding up. “See you tomorrow.”
Zina mumbled something in return.
“Hello,” she greeted him, her heart racing, her voice steady. “What are you doing here?” She was too tired to feign disinterest. She smiled.
“I’m coming to take you home. Did you have a nice birthday? Did you talk to your parents?”
“No,” Tatiana replied.
“No to both?”
“I didn’t talk to them, Alexander,” Tatiana said, avoiding the birthday issue. “Maybe Dasha can talk to them? She is a lot braver than I am.”
“Is she?”
“Oh, much,” said Tatiana. “I’m a big chicken.”
“I tried to talk to her about Pasha. She is even less concerned than you.” He shrugged. “Look, it’s not my place. I’m just doing what I can.” He glanced at the line of people. “We’ll never get on this bus. Want to walk?”
“As long as it is up the tram steps,” she said. “I can’t move today. I’m so tired.” She paused, adjusting her ponytail. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Two hours,” he replied, and Tatiana suddenly felt less tired. She stared at Alexander with surprise.
“You’ve been waiting two hours?” What she didn’t say was, you’ve been waiting two hours
for me
? “My day has been extended till seven. I’m sorry you waited so long,” she said softly to him.
They fell away from the crowd, crossed the street, and headed toward Ulitsa Govorova.
“Why are you carrying that?” Tatiana asked, pointing to Alexander’s rifle. “Are you on duty?”
“I’m off duty until ten,” he said. “But I’ve been ordered to carry my weapon with me at all times.”
“They’re not here yet, are they?” Tatiana said, trying to be jovial.
“Not yet,” came his short reply.
“Is the rifle heavy?”
“No.” He paused and smiled. “Would you like to carry it?”
“Yes,” she said. “Let’s see. I’ve never held a rifle before.” Taking it from him, she was surprised by how heavy it was and how hard it was to hold it with both hands. She carried it for a while and then gave it back to Alexander. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. “Carry your weapon and all your other things, too.”
“Not just carry it, Tania, but fire it. And run forward, and fall on the ground, and jump up with it in my hands, with all my other things on my back.”
“I don’t know how you do it.” She wished she could be physically strong like that. Pasha would never beat her at war again.
The tram came, and they got on. It was crowded. Tatiana gave up her seat to an elderly lady, while Alexander looked as if he never intended to sit down. He held on to the brown overhead strap with one hand and his rifle strap with the other. Tatiana held on to the partially rusted metal handle. Every once in a while the tram would lurch and she would bump into him, and every time she would apologize. His body felt as hard as the Kirov wall.
Tatiana wanted to sit down with him alone somewhere and ask him about his parents. Certainly she couldn’t ask him on the tram. And was knowing about his parents a good thing? Wouldn’t knowledge about his life just make her feel closer to him, when what she needed was to feel as far away from him as possible?
Tatiana remained silent as the tram took them to Vosnesensky Prospekt, where they caught tram Number 2 to the Russian Museum.
“Well, I’ll be going,” Tatiana said—
extremely
reluctantly—after they got off.
“Do you want to sit for a minute?” Alexander suddenly asked. “We can rest on one of the benches in the Italian Gardens. Want to?”
“All right,” Tatiana said, trying not to
Late in the day the nail gun broke, and Tatiana had to nail the crates shut with a hammer. By seven her back and her arm ached.
Tatiana and Zina walked along the Kirov wall, and before she got to the bus stop, Tatiana saw Alexander’s black-haired head rising above the tide of others.
“I have to go,” Tatiana said, losing a breath and speeding up. “See you tomorrow.”
Zina mumbled something in return.
“Hello,” she greeted him, her heart racing, her voice steady. “What are you doing here?” She was too tired to feign disinterest. She smiled.
“I’m coming to take you home. Did you have a nice birthday? Did you talk to your parents?”
“No,” Tatiana replied.
“No to both?”
“I didn’t talk to them, Alexander,” Tatiana said, avoiding the birthday issue. “Maybe Dasha can talk to them? She is a lot braver than I am.”
“Is she?”
“Oh, much,” said Tatiana. “I’m a big chicken.”
“I tried to talk to her about Pasha. She is even less concerned than you.” He shrugged. “Look, it’s not my place. I’m just doing what I can.” He glanced at the line of people. “We’ll never get on this bus. Want to walk?”
“As long as it is up the tram steps,” she said. “I can’t move today. I’m so tired.” She paused, adjusting her ponytail. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Two hours,” he replied, and Tatiana suddenly felt less tired. She stared at Alexander with surprise.
“You’ve been waiting two hours?” What she didn’t say was, you’ve been waiting two hours
for me
? “My day has been extended till seven. I’m sorry you waited so long,” she said softly to him.
They fell away from the crowd, crossed the street, and headed toward Ulitsa Govorova.
“Why are you carrying that?” Tatiana asked, pointing to Alexander’s rifle. “Are you on duty?”
“I’m off duty until ten,” he said. “But I’ve been ordered to carry my weapon with me at all times.”
“They’re not here yet, are they?” Tatiana said, trying to be jovial.
“Not yet,” came his short reply.
“Is the rifle heavy?”
“No.” He paused and smiled. “Would you like to carry it?”
“Yes,” she said. “Let’s see. I’ve never held a rifle before.” Taking it from him, she was surprised by how heavy it was and how hard it was to hold it with both hands. She carried it for a while and then gave it back to Alexander. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. “Carry your weapon and all your other things, too.”
“Not just carry it, Tania, but fire it. And run forward, and fall on the ground, and jump up with it in my hands, with all my other things on my back.”
“I don’t know how you do it.” She wished she could be physically strong like that. Pasha would never beat her at war again.
The tram came, and they got on. It was crowded. Tatiana gave up her seat to an elderly lady, while Alexander looked as if he never intended to sit down. He held on to the brown overhead strap with one hand and his rifle strap with the other. Tatiana held on to the partially rusted metal handle. Every once in a while the tram would lurch and she would bump into him, and every time she would apologize. His body felt as hard as the Kirov wall.
Tatiana wanted to sit down with him alone somewhere and ask him about his parents. Certainly she couldn’t ask him on the tram. And was knowing about his parents a good thing? Wouldn’t knowledge about his life just make her feel closer to him, when what she needed was to feel as far away from him as possible?
Tatiana remained silent as the tram took them to Vosnesensky Prospekt, where they caught tram Number 2 to the Russian Museum.
“Well, I’ll be going,” Tatiana said—
extremely
reluctantly—after they got off.
“Do you want to sit for a minute?” Alexander suddenly asked. “We can rest on one of the benches in the Italian Gardens. Want to?”
“All right,” Tatiana said, trying not to
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