That night
I have a full day of classes which finishes at 830, then a leisurely dinner at Il Patio. I wonder what will happen when I get home- will I be able to sleep? Will there be an angry discussion? I suppose he’ll just act like nothing happened, he’s too much a coward to face his problems.
When at 11pm I arrive at the ground floor of our building, it occurs to me that he may just not let me in. I ring the bell and there is no answer. I ring again. No answer. I take out my cellphone, which only has a few rubles on it, and call him. No answer. It is freezing cold outside and snow is falling, it’s maybe minus 30 Celsius. This is the suburbs- all the stores where I could load my phone are empty. The pizza joint closed a half hour ago. Virtually everyone is already home from work, so the chance of somebody coming or going and opening the door is low. Wait- the door opens! I run in and go up to our floor in the elevator. The hallway is warmer, maybe 14 degrees Celsius, and I enjoy the warmth, although the idea of spending the night on the floor is daunting- there are also harsh neon lights glowing overhead. I knock on our door, then begin pounding. I can hear music playing there behind the doors, and call him again. He goes to bed at midnight. Did he just go to sleep earlier? I phone again while alternately pounding on the door and ringing the doorbell. No answer. What to do? I have four rubles on my phone, and a fair amount of cash in my wallet.
I go to the end of the hallway where the reception is better and text Julia. She immediately calls back and I explain the situation. She says her cousin Maxim, who I have never heard of, lives thirty kilometers away and that he can come help. Ten minutes later she calls back and says he will be on the way as soon as I send my address. I remember it, and she says he should be here in an hour or so. I wait for the first forty minutes inside, and then go outside- it could be extremely difficult for Maxim to find the right address in the driving snow. I immediately realize this is a mistake when the bitter cold of the pavement goes right through the soles of my shoes and my legs start to freeze. A car drives past and stops for me, but it’s just a taxi; this happens four times and two entire hours of painful cold before Maxim arrives. It is burning hot in the car. He looks a little tired, but completely calm, and I begin to thank him profusely. We make a loop onto a highway, then onto a paved but unlit forest road that leads to a region of one and two-story wooden and brick houses. After about forty minutes, we are home- at a two-story wooden boarding home with sizeable gaps between the panels. We enter, go up some creaky stairs to the second floor and enter his family’s apartment. It’s dark, but the first thing I notice is that his family had brought their entire library of classic Russian literature up from the Caucasus, which they had fled several months earlier to get away from the possibility of another war there and make a new life in Moscow as immigrants in their own country. I hear a quiet voice from the corner- it’s Maxim’s 90-year old grandmother, who is laying in bed in the corner. She tells me to come to her, and when I go to her bed, she says she will be my grandmother tonight, sits up in bed and gives me big hug. I don’t have my toothbrush with me so they give me some chewing gum and I crash on the sofa for three hours. Maxim and I get up to find his mother already preparing tea for us. She acts like they have done nothing for me and just quietly waves good bye when we leave together.
I have a full day of classes, and don’t know where I’ll sleep tonight. Throughout the day I call Charlemagne, but his phone has been turned off, so I call the director of our school, who offers to have my things moved by a hired car from his apartment, but until Charlemagne picks up the phone or drops by the school, no one can make anything happen. All my books are there, along with a good part of my clothing. I have given enough lessons that I have whole chapters of material memorized, but what worries me is the clothes. What am I going to do, and what will I wear? Christian is out of Moscow. Teabag is MIA in Kursk with his wife and kid. This leaves Andrei and Julia. Again. They agree, and Andrei tells me I can even borrow some of his clothes. They are good people, and I am lucky to have them as friends. I wish I could pay them back somehow.
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