7/10/2006
Scarlet Sails, Part 9
Tatyana Ivanova and I walked away from Scarlet Sails Rehabilitation Center and down the lane to wait for our ride, dodging puddles as we went.
"I think Lena has plenty of emotion," I said, "but I can see that she does have trouble expressing it."
"She is recovering," Tatyana said. "She is bright and may have a future, but I must tell you that the chances are not good."
"What I don't understand, Tanya, is how she could completely forgive her father for abandoning her, for leaving her with that awful mother of hers. I mean, that man is responsible for her being here."
Tatyana smiled weakly and shook her head. "You should not condemn this man so completely. You do not know how difficult his life has been.
"I know something about her father," Tatyana continued as we reached the end of the lane. "I've talked with his doctors at the veterans' home. You know, he was in Afghanistan for only 20 days before he was injured. He was in a convoy going through the mountains, riding in an armored car. They came across a disabled Russian tank far from the road. From a distance, it looked like the crew was sitting beside the tank. Dmitri Kulagin and some of the other soldiers walked toward the tank, and soon they saw that the crew was all dead, that four of them had their heads cut off. The enemy had arranged the corpses, seated in a row, with each holding his head in his hands. When Dmitri saw this, he turned around and vomited on the ground, and that is when the bullets began to fly. He was hit in the back of the leg, and another bullet went through his back into his lung. The other soldiers with him died, but Dmitri Kulagin was rescued.
"The doctor says he cannot escape this vision, that it haunts him day and night."
Our car arrived, but Tatyana, who had just lighted a cigarette, signaled the driver to wait a moment. I heard footsteps clapping along the lane and turned to see Lena sprinting toward us. She stopped a few yards away from us and stood there, motionless, staring at me with an intensity that caused me a chill.
What does she want? I thought. Did she expect me to take her away from this place, to take her home with me? She continued to look at me with cool, gray, unblinking eyes. No, that wasn't it. She seemed to be waiting for me to tell her something more.
I stepped toward her, squatted and said, "Goodbye, Lena, for now, but I'll be back next year, and perhaps by then..."
Before I could finish, she had turned and run back toward Scarlet Sails, feet flapping and arms waving.
(Tomorrow: the conclusion)
