6
All Thursday long, as she worked on the flamethrowers, Tatiana thought about Alexander. And after work he was waiting for her. Tonight she didn’t ask why he had come. And he didn’t explain. He had no presents and no questions. He just came. They barely spoke; just their arms banged against each other, and once when the tram screeched to a stop, Tatiana fell into him, and he, his body unmoving, straightened her by placing his hand around her waist.
“Dasha talked me into coming by tonight,” he said quietly to Tatiana.
“Oh,” Tatiana said. “That’s fine. Of course. My parents will be glad to see you again. They were in a great mood this morning,” she continued. “Yesterday Mama got through to Pasha on the telephone, and apparently he is doing great—” She stopped talking. Suddenly she felt too sad to continue.
They walked as slowly as they could to tram Number 16 and stood silently, their arms pressed against each other, until it stopped at Grechesky Hospital.
“I’ll see you, Lieutenant.” She wanted to say Shura but could not.
“I’ll see you, Tatia,” said Alexander.
Later that night was the first time the four of them met at Fifth Soviet and all went out for a walk together. They bought ice cream, a milk shake, and a beer, and Dasha clung to Alexander’s arm like a barnacle. Tatiana maintained a polite distance from Dimitri, using every faculty in her meager possession of faculties not to watch Dasha clinging to Alexander. Tatiana was surprised at how profoundly unpleasant she found it to look at her sister touching him. Dasha going to see him in some nebulous, unimagined, unexplored Leningrad, unseen by Tatiana’s eyes, was infinitely preferable.
Alexander seemed as casual and content as any soldier would be with someone like Dasha on his arm. He barely glanced at Tatiana. How did Dasha and Alexander look together? Did they look right? Did they look more right than she and Alexander? She had no answers. She didn’t know how she looked when she was close to Alexander. She knew only how she was when she was close to Alexander.
“Tania!” Dimitri was talking to her.
“Sorry, Dima, what?” Why did he raise his voice?
“Tania, I was saying don’t you think Alexander should transfer me from the rifle guard division to somewhere else? Maybe with him to the motorized?”
“I guess. Is that possible? Don’t you have to know how to drive a tank or something in the motorized?”
Alexander smiled. Dimitri said nothing.
“Tania!” exclaimed Dasha. “What do you know about what you have to do in the motorized? Be quiet. Alex, are you going to be storming rivers and charging at the enemy?” She giggled.
“No,” said Dimitri. “First Alexander sends me. To make sure it’s safe. Then he goes himself. And gets another promotion. Right, Alexander?”
“Something like that, Dima,” Alexander said, walking beside him. “Though sometimes when I go myself, I also take you.”
Tatiana could barely listen. Why was Dasha walking so close to him? And how could he go himself and take Dimitri with him? What did that mean?
“Tania!” Dimitri said. “Tania, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, of course,” she said. Why does he keep raising his voice?
“You seem distracted.”
“No, not at all. It’s a nice evening, isn’t it?”
“Do you want to take my arm? You look like you’re ready to fall down.”
Carelessly glancing at Tatiana, Dasha said, “Watch out, or any minute she is going to faint.”
That night when Tatiana got into bed, she pulled the blanket over her head, pretending to be asleep even when Dasha lay down next to her and whispered, “Tania, Tania, are you sleeping? Tania?” and nudged her lightly. Tatiana didn’t want to talk to Dasha in the dark, divulging confidences. She just wanted to say his name once out loud. Shura.