Читать книгу The Perestroika Effect - Cecilia Tanner - Страница 4

Sergey pulled the Toyota up to the store as the snow eased off. Cigarettes and coffee – the universal diet. He shut down the engine – it was not yet cold enough to have to leave it on. Pulling the greatcoat together he got out of the vehicle. There was a government Skoda parked in front of him. Sergey took a second look. That certainly looked like his cousin Oleg. Couldn’t be. But he was looking at Oleg’s balding fair-haired head with the round face and the bulky shoulders. The only indication that he was an academic and not a labourer were the glasses that every academic wore. It must be Oleg.

He rapped on the window. Oleg broke into a smile as he recognized Sergey. He shut off the engine.

“Get in.” But Sergey just stood leaning forward on the driver’s door, disbelief written loud on his face.

“What are you doing here, Oleg?”

“Sergey, I came looking for you, but I have to get back to Moscow. I’ve been to a geological site near Yakutsk, and I’m just heading to the airport. Hoped to have a visit, but the plane was delayed getting here, and now I have barely time to pick up a coffee before it is leaving again…”

“That sounds like the Oleg we all know.”

“I can’t believe people willingly live in Yakutsk – they must know it is the coldest city on earth.”

“You can escape a lot of unhappy situations out here in Siberia, Oleg. Who’s going to come looking for you? Certainly not a woman who likes her comforts.”

“Too high a price, Sergey. Way too high.” He looked in the rearview mirror. “Are you driving that battered piece of junk, Sergey?”

“Just for a few days until my car arrives,” he lied, pointing his finger in Oleg’s face. “I can’t believe you came out here and you weren’t going to see me.”

“Well, I had hoped to but connections are difficult, and the weather plays such an important role in everything it seems. I just had no idea.”

“Time for another coffee or Knass?”

“That fizzy stuff made from rye bread? You aren’t drinking that slop, Sergey, come on.”

Sergey laughed. “I thought you were in America.”

“Oh I was, I was. Last week, energy conference on the West Coast. Nice place. Town called Seattle.”

“Did you give a paper or something?”

“No. To be honest, I registered, went to the opening address, and then I dodged back to my hotel room. You wouldn’t believe the TV shows, Sergey, 24 hours, gorgeous skinny women with boobs – movies, mysteries, sports, migod the soccer matches– spectacular. It was worth all those years learning English. Spent 2 days eating room service meals and watching American TV. I tell you, Sergey, if people in Russia had seen American TV, perestroika would have happened years ago.”

Sergey didn’t know what to make of this cousin. He had become closer to Oleg and his wife after his dad died and his brother went missing and then his mother ended in the home where she died. With no other family, the tenuous relationship with his cousin became more precious. Even so, he really didn’t know him that well.

And he certainly didn’t know what to say to this grown man playing truant from his science conference. He just smiled.

“All those beautiful women, Sergey – I couldn’t get enough of them. Oh, and cheeseburgers. You haven’t lived til you’ve eaten cheeseburgers with onions and sauce. Migod, it was heaven.”

“We’ll probably be getting them in Russia soon enough, Oleg.”

“Man, oh, man, I hope so.”

“What were you looking for in Yakutsk?”

“Ahhh, the gas & oil boys are checking out the locations of some of the big reserves in Siberia, so I was meeting with some of the parties interested in extracting the stuff. Looks like a lot of people have found out about the possibility of making big money out here.”

“Where there is money to be made, you don’t need to send out invitations. Are you sure you can’t stay a while after travelling this far?”

“I’ve got a plane reservation. As I said, and you know me, I didn’t plan on the scope of the land and the complexity of negotiations.”

Sergey’s hands were getting cold pressed against the metal door of the car. He rubbed them together, backing away from the car.

“Okay, Oleg. Let me know ahead of time when you are coming next time.”

“Keep your feet warm, Sergey.”

Oleg started the engine, put the car in gear, and pulled away from the crumbling muddy sidewalk, waving to Sergey as the car pulled out.

Sergey picked up the cigarettes and coffee in the store. He noticed the photos taped to the wall behind the counter. One of an ice sculpture.

“Nice, no?” the store clerk nodded, “That’s the ice sculpture on the Lena River to celebrate Orthodox Epiphany outside Yakutsk. We can celebrate these occasions again.”

Sergey looked at the picture of the people out in the middle of winter in Siberia making ice sculptures, their faces covered with face masks and rimmed with fur parkas, steam coming from their breaths like smoke.

“And that one?”

“That’s the icicles on the houses when there is a thaw.” Sergey noticed the icicles went all the way from the roof to the ground, and the picture showed a couple of muffled up kids laughing while smashing the icicles with sticks.