The Turning (6 page)

When I returned to the rehearsal room, my face was burning. Vera came over and put her arm around me, but the others treated me as if I had a disease they might catch. At lunch the others kept their distance until they saw Vera and Vitaly settle next to me; then, one by one, they joined us. “What did the Great One have to say?” Vera asked.

“Tell us!” Vitaly begged.

“He criticized my
battements dégagés,
” I said. “He told me to bring my working foot higher.”

They stared incredulously at me. “I don’t believe you,” Vera said.

“I swear it’s true,” I said.

The word must have gone around, and Marina looked daggers at me, for personal criticism from Maxim Nikolayevich was a hundred times better than praise from anyone else. It meant he had
noticed
you.

I carried my little secret with me all day, forcing myself not to smile foolishly as I felt like doing. How I longed to tell someone. As I walked through the streets on my way to the children’s shelter, I didn’t see the slush or feel the cold. I could only say Maxim Nikolayevich’s name over and over to myself as if it were a charm that would protect me from any danger. There was still a chance that should the tour take off for Paris, I would be on the plane. Come summer I might be strolling down the Champs-Élysées.

I was still smiling when I reached the shelter. I was so caught up with my secret that at first I didn’t notice the troubled look on Uncle Fyodor’s face. “Natalia is gone. We’ve lost her.”

“What happened?”

“Her father has tracked her down. He turned up at the shelter, drunk, demanding that she go home with him. Natalia’s mother has left her husband—and why not? He has made her life a misery. The man played on Natalia’s sympathies, saying he was sick and had no one to care for him. He went down on his knees. He said he was all alone and had only a few weeks to live. He begged Natalia to come and take care of him. She went.”

I was horrified. “Couldn’t you stop her?”

Uncle Fyodor shook his head. “How could we? The man is her father.”

“Do you think he is really sick?”

“I believe it was all a sham, but what an actor that man would have made. I only wish we had someone in authority we could call on to help Natalia.”

“Give me her address,” I said.

Uncle Fyodor shook his head. “No, Tanya. I don’t want you going there. It’s a bad neighborhood and he is a dangerous man.”

My pupils had little enthusiasm for their lessons, for they all missed Natalia; still I put them through their paces. Madame always told us there was no sorrow that could not be cured by work. As I left, Yulia pressed a piece of paper into my hand. She whispered, “Natalia and I shared a cupboard. I found a letter from her father there with a return address.” I reached for the letter and hid it in my purse. “Will you bring her back, Tanya?”

“I’ll try,” I promised. When I was away from the shelter, I took out the letter. It was nothing more than a scrawl on a stained piece of paper. “Natalia, your papa needs you. I am dying.”

There were some not-so-lovely parts of Leningrad. As I walked among tumbledown gray houses that gave off a hopeless feeling of poverty and despair, I felt I could enter any one of those houses and hear a sad story. The yards were bare and muddy, the only landscaping piles of trash. Skinny dogs pulled on their chains and growled, busy with protecting the little that was left to the families. Ragged children stood at the doorways or poked about in the mud with sticks. As I passed a house, a curtain would twitch at a window and a suspicious face peer out. Any stranger in that neighborhood would be regarded as an enemy. I had nearly lost my courage by the time I found the address.

Natalia’s house was nothing more than a shack with four walls and a roof. The two windows that looked out onto the street were barred. A crudely lettered sign said
KEEP OUT
. I stood there looking at the house, thinking Uncle Fyodor was right and I should turn around and retrace my steps. The front door opened, and Natalia ran out and flung herself at me.

“Tanya, the angels sent you. Come inside so we won’t be seen.”

“Where is your father?”

“He goes out every afternoon to see friends.”

“I thought he was sick.”

“He says since I have come home to take care of the house and see that he has meals, he is much better.”

I saw a bruise on her arm. “How did you get that?”

“I must have tripped and fallen against something.”

“Natalia, you are the most graceful person in the world. I don’t see you stumbling about. It was your father, wasn’t it?”

Natalia began to cry. “He’s not a bad man, but when he gets his pension, he spends it all on vodka and he comes home in a mean mood. If I don’t have his supper on the table, he scolds me, but often there’s no money for food, so how can I make him supper?”

“Natalia, come back to the shelter with me. Your father is a grown man. He can take care of himself.”

“No, you don’t understand. He really is sick. He coughs all the time. The vodka is only to make him feel a little better. He says he will die if I go back. Tanya, believe me, he is not all bad. He is discouraged because he can’t find a job. When I was a little girl, he would take Mama and me out into the country, and you should have heard him whistle to the birds, so real the birds would whistle back, and once he brought home a little rabbit for me and built a cage for it.”

“Natalia, what about your dancing?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “It will have to wait.”

“It can’t wait. You are already old to start ballet school. The lessons from me are not enough. Let me talk with Madame about you and ask her to give you an audition. Listen to me, Natalia. I truly believe you have it in you to be a great ballerina, and artists in this country must make use of their talents. They have a responsibility to be the best they can. Great art will always lead to freedom, the freedom that so many people in our country died for.” All the while I was trying to convince Natalia of her responsibility to Russia, I was guiltily thinking how I would soon be deserting my country. My words stuck in my throat.

The door banged as if a strong wind had blown it open. A man, who I guessed was Natalia’s father, stormed into the room. He stared at me as if I were a bit of food that had gone bad. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Someone come to steal my daughter?”

“I’m not trying to steal her, but I think she should come back to the shelter and her dancing.”

“She’s going nowhere. She is my daughter, and it is up to her to take care of me in my dying days.”

“You look healthy to me.”

My words infuriated him. “Who are you to tell me how I feel? You have probably never been sick a day in your life or wanted for food on the table. How can you come here and try to separate a father from his daughter?” He turned to Natalia. “Tell the girl you don’t want to leave your old, sick dad.”

Natalia looked helplessly at me. Earlier in the day I had stuck by my grandfather when he was attacked. Why should Natalia not stick by her father? Who was I to interfere?

“Now get out of here. We have company coming tonight for supper, and Natalia must prepare the food.”

Reluctantly I began to leave. As I was going out the door, I saw the father put a bag of potatoes, a cabbage, and a thick slab of meat on the table. There was a bottle of wine as well.

Natalia stared at the food in wonder. “Papa, where did all that come from?” Curious, I lingered at the door.

Natalia’s father swung around and gave me a rough push. “We want you out of here.” He slammed the door after me, but I stood there listening. The wood was so thin, I could hear everything.

“Have you robbed a store?” Natalia asked.

“Shame on you. What kind of a daughter are you to accuse me of such a thing? The gentleman who is coming for dinner has paid for our food. It will be your job to be nice to the man, and maybe he will give us more than food.”

I ran off. Uncle Fyodor was right. The father would stop at nothing. Natalia’s beauty and natural grace, which would help to make her a great ballerina, meant nothing more to her father than a way to make money. I knew I could not do anything by myself, and the police were so few and so busy they would never listen to me. I needed someone to help me. I thought of Uncle Fyodor, but he was a man of peace, not action. I considered my father, but he always had to think on all sides of a question. By the time he had his answer, it would be too late. I considered Sasha, but with his grandmother’s illness, he had all he could manage. There was only Grandfather.

I rushed breathless into the apartment and began to tug at Grandfather, signaling him that I wanted him out in the hall. Any word in the apartment was overhead by all.

“Tanya, what is wrong with you?” he said. “You are as bad as the riot police. Next you will go after me with a bludgeon and tear gas.”

“I have to talk with you,” I said.

By now I had the attention of Mama and Grandmother. “Tanya, dear, what is it?” Grandmother said. “Surely you can talk in front of us.”

I blurted out my story.

“What are you thinking?” Mama said. “The man is dangerous. It would be madness for your grandfather to tackle him alone.”

Grandfather was already hurrying toward the bedroom. He called over his shoulder, “You say he was in the army? I have a plan.”

Minutes later he returned, struggling into the jacket of his old Red Army uniform, a uniform he put on each year for the May 9 victory parade. Grandfather, who never stood still for more than a minute, was still in fine shape, and the jacket, though a little tight around the stomach after forty-five years, still fit him. “Let us hope the man is so drunk, he will not notice that my uniform is an old one.”

When Grandfather put on his military cap and threw out his chest, he looked very impressive. He had even pinned on some of his medals, which he always kept shined.

Mother and Grandmother followed us out the door calling words of caution to us all the way down the stairway. The last thing we heard was Mama’s plea: “Papa, think what you are doing. Come back!” Grandfather only hurried the faster. I knew that he was eager to help Natalia, but I could also see his uniform had brought back memories, and now he was not only ready but anxious for one more battle. I began to have hope for Natalia.

We marched through the streets, Grandfather far in front of me. It was dark now. The cars caught us in their headlights as we hurried along. People nervously gave way as Grandfather plowed through the crowds as if he were on some official mission. When we reached Natalia’s house, Grandfather slowed and began cautiously to approach the window, motioning me to stay back, but I stayed right behind him.

“Grandfather,” I whispered, “that’s Natalia crying.”

The next minute Grandfather was kicking in the front door. Natalia’s father and another man were sitting at a table, a bottle of vodka in front of them, the remains of their dinner on the plates, the wine bottle empty. Natalia’s father had her by the arm. As they rose to their feet, Natalia escaped and ran toward me.

In a loud authoritarian voice Grandfather shouted, “Pyotr Vasilyevich, the army has sent me to tell you that your behavior is such that your pension will be withdrawn.”

Natalia’s father cringed. “Withdrawn? What for? How will I live?”

The other man said, “Shut up, Pyotr Vasilyevich.” He turned to Grandfather. “I am sure this is just a misunderstanding. We are all friends here. Have a little glass of vodka with us and let us see if we can’t find a way to compensate you for your trouble in coming here.”

Grandfather reached over and slammed the bottle of vodka against the table, breaking it in two and splashing the liquor over the startled man. He grabbed the man by the shoulders and shook him. “Get out!” Grandfather thundered. The man hastily scuttled out of the room.

Grandfather turned to Natalia’s father. “Pyotr Vasilyevich, I know what you are up to, selling your own daughter. For that you could not only lose your pension, but be put away for a dozen years. For the sake of your daughter I won’t turn you in, but you must promise never again to approach Natalia or to communicate with her.” Grandfather strode out of the house, Natalia on one arm and me on the other.

Once we were back at the shelter, with Uncle Fyodor pouring out hot tea for us, Natalia told us her story. “I didn’t understand at first,” she said. “I thought the man who gave us the food was just kind-hearted. I even fixed up the house a little, dusting and putting out dishes with no chips or cracks so that we would not be ashamed in front of the man. Of course I should have known better, but I wanted more than anything to trust Papa. It’s hard to admit to yourself that your father is an evil man.

“The man brought a bottle of vodka with him, and I saw him give Papa some rubles. By the time I had dinner on the table, Papa and the man were drunk. The man began to put his paws on me, calling me his pretty princess. When I slapped his hand away, Papa said that was no way to act toward a friend. I tried to get away, but Papa hung on to me. I was frightened and started to cry, but Papa only hung on harder. That was when you came.” She turned to Grandfather. “What kind of soldier are you?”

Grandfather laughed. “I belong to a special branch of the army organized just to carry out Tanya’s orders.”

“Whatever kind of soldier you are, you saved me, but I can’t stay here in the shelter. I’m even afraid to stay in this city,” Natalia said. “I don’t care what Papa promised about not seeing me again. I know him. He will hunt me down. I have to run away.”

“Natalia,” I said, “I have a better idea. Your father won’t dare to show up at the shelter tonight. Wait here until tomorrow.”

CHAPTER 6

A CONFESSION

The next morning at the first break during rehearsal, I approached Madame. She had been in a good mood, hardly scolding us at all and even complimenting Aidan on her playing, telling us the accompanist was not there just to pound out tunes, but to put her soul into the music as we must put our souls into our dancing.

Taking a deep breath, I asked, “Madame, can I have a word with you?” I told her Natalia’s story, leaving out the part about Grandfather and his uniform, telling her only that Natalia had been rescued and needed to get away from Leningrad. “Please let me bring her here and show you how she can dance. She should be in a ballet school.”