“What do you know about that real world of yours? What kind of fairy tales did she tell you? Anna, don’t be so naive. Whatever she tells you isn’t true. All you need to know is that father and I love you and want the best for you.”
“Do you really know what’s best for me? You think I want to be with your dearest Mikhail, marry him and raise his children? If you really know me and care about me, how can you not see that I am hurt, that I am in pain every single day? I’ve never told you this, I was never strong enough and I knew you would destroy me if I did. Well, I’m telling you now, I don’t want to live the life you intend for me. I hate this life and from now on I am deciding what’s good for me, not you!”
“Anna, I am tired of this, you are definitely not well. God, knows what she is doing to you there. I will not give you the passport. Do not ask me again. I am doing this for your own good. And please, Anna, don’t tell your friends about this… whatever you are doing there, it is such a shame on us.”
Anna cut the connection with a blow to the mouse that had me wondering what a replacement would cost. “I am sorry you witnessed that.”
“I’m not. It gives me some idea of what you’ve been dealing with.”
“What I am dealing with.” Anna corrected me. “This is actually not bad. Things could be worse. Mother once wanted to make me the wife of an oil sheik in Dubai.”
“You have got to be kidding.”
“Not at all. A friend of my mother’s was visiting with her daughter. She was so happy because her daughter was going to marry a rich sheik. Mama was so impressed, she wanted me to go along as a bride for one of the sheik’s rich friends.”
“What about those shares she was talking about? I didn’t know you had money, stocks, investments. I’m bleeding money here keeping us alive.”
“I guess I should have told you. The shares are from my uncle. He gave them to me for my future. I didn’t know my mother could take them. I didn’t believe she could or would steal my passport, or the money, or even the shares. Right up until she admitted it, I just didn’t believe she could do something like that to me.”
“When did you find out that the shares are gone?”
“In Kiev.” Anna turned away.
“What are the shares of? How could she get them from you?”
“Gazprom, they are the actual paper certificates. I was told there are 60,000 of them.”
“Hoo-lee shit! Do you know what that’s worth?”
“Enough to buy a nice apartment or house.”
“Enough to buy a passport and first class ticket to anywhere. I don’t know why you needed me.”
“Without you I would not need the whole world! Don’t you see, I don’t need the West, I need you. I ran away with you because I could not be without you. I can not be with you here in Russia, which means there is only West.”
I went back to the share certificates. “Because the shares were actual sheets of paper your mother just took them from your room?”
“I never saw them. I was only told about them. Maybe it was even a lie, but I don’t think so because my uncle kept telling me he gave them to me so I should be grateful.”
“But you never saw them?”
“Mama said they would be sold to buy a home for Misha and me after I marry him.”
“Do you know this uncle? You have met him, right? He exists?” Even by Russian standards 60,000 loose share certificates was far fetched.
“Absolutely, we would visit him in Volgograd. You know, you had a picture of him. You showed it to me in Kiev, and I pointed him out, remember?”
“Yeah, and if I had a picture of him, it’s not good news. He’s probably dangerous.”
Anna laughed. “Him? He was a little bit crazy. Maybe a lot crazy. He always had guns and thought everyone was out to get him. He was always afraid of things and kept the drapes closed.”
“You didn’t find that scary?”
“Jess, I was a child. They were adults. They were always right. He also had lots of western things. JVC video player, candy, toys. To me he was like a magician to have things like that.” She picked up the computer mouse she had pounded on, examined it then went on. “It was before the end of the Soviet Union. After that he just had everything. I knew it was unusual, but adults, your relatives especially, are always right. You don’t question them.”
I had a hunch who the magician uncle was. “He had lots of money around too? I bet he liked to show it off, right?”
“Yes, boxes and boxes of it. He would give lots of it to my mother.”
“Any of it in Soy Sauce boxes, like the ones in the trunk back at the Prokuratura?” It was a snide comment. I felt the usual after after-the-yap remorse. “Anna, your uncle is a money launderer.”
She stared at me.
“He takes money that comes from criminal ventures and makes it look like it came from a legitimate source.” I took her hands in mine. “It would be difficult and risky to sell more than a few shares at a time. Believe me, you haven’t lost much.”
Alexi resurfaced at the Windsor Arms Hotel a couple of days after we’d last seen him. With appalling timing, we emerged to find him convincing the doorman he was expected.
“Miss Jess, Miss Anna!” He’d seen us.
“Don’t make eye contact. Maybe he’ll go away.” I hissed.
We walked down the stairs and passed him on the sidewalk.
He chased us, babbling about doing business.
The Turkish embassy, where we were headed to see about Anna making a refugee claim, lay less than a hundred meters ahead. We forged onward.
“Listen to me. I can get you a passport.”
I stopped, turned and faced him. “Really? No cockamamie boat buying. An actual, real passport?”
“Pravda, a real Ukrainian passport.”
“How much?” I asked.
“Let us talk over lunch.” He cracked a smile.
Yet again, in the basement of the Athena mall, we followed Alexi through the cafeteria line while he skillfully overloaded his tray. I grabbed a coffee and Anna, a tea. “Is that all you are going to eat?” Alexi noticed we didn’t have trays.
The cashier looked at me questioningly and I nodded. “Da, I’m paying for him.”
At the table, he leaned conspiratorially toward us and talked in a low voice about his niece, a young woman in an eastern Ukrainian village who could help her Russian comrade escape. Alexi was willing to arrange the whole exchange for a modest fee, and promised it was foolproof. He claimed that right from the start he thought Anna looked so much like his beloved niece, he was driven to help us. We would discuss the fee after we had seen the passport, which he promised would arrive within a week.
SEVENTEEN
The Russian consulate is at least an hour’s walk from downtown Odessa. The terrain is predominantly dusty crumbling streets traversed by packs of wild dogs. Not a pleasant stroll at the best of times, but with an ankle on the mend the walk was excruciating. A lawyer, recommended by the hotel, suggested we try it in a last ditch attempt to replace Anna’s passport legitimately. Personal experience with the Russian consulate in Odessa had convinced him there was no reciprocity with Kiev or Ukrainian law enforcement. Unless an order to apprehend Anna had come directly from the Kremlin, they would treat her with the same disregard and contempt afforded anyone. Anyone without money, that is. “You do have money, of course?” He’d asked.
“Dollars? Yes, I have some money.” I thought he was asking for payment.
“Dollars, Euro, Rubles… doesn’t matter, it’s all money. Just as long as you have enough of it.”
“How much do you want?”
“Not me, them! The lizards at the Russian consulate. Without money they won’t do a thing, and don’t worry, they are not into kidnapping. Too much work, I imagine.” He stood, looked down at us across his desk, wished us good luck and dismissed us with firm handshakes. He never asked for payment.