I didn’t want to know, because nothing good could come from knowing.
“What was the first one?” I asked anyway.
He didn’t look away, and his eyes were sadder than ever.
“A noose, Kotik. Around my neck.”
* * *
About Russia
brezhnevka- concrete 9-17 story concrete apartment buildings built in the 1970s, low-quality mass housing.
Moskovich- Soviet/Russian automobile brand
About tattoos:They were still heavily associated with the criminal world and considered taboo by the general public. There was a lot of stigma surrounding prison tattoos, which meant different things depending on the design and acted as “codes.” Non-prison tattoos were uncommon and viewed negatively, especially by the older generations.
8
TheBroken Elevator
“Anoose, Kotik. Around my neck.”
He was merciful in that he didn’t force me to react to the words and turned away instead, pulling another sweater out of a lineup that must have seen every season. Of course, he couldn’t just walk around with a t-shirt on… couldn’t go swimming or get a decent tan…
“Tell me about work, Katya,” he said as the wool settled atop his muscles, transforming the person I’d just seen back into Vitali.
“It’s fine…”
“No, tell me about work. Are you still showing up?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because they’re not paying you,” he said, adjusting his sleeve. The look on my face gave away everything he needed to know, and he motioned for the living room. “Sit down.”
“That’s… there is just an issue with the budget this month…” I muttered as he patiently waited by the couch. He didn’t sit, but I plopped down, silently begging him to drop the topic.
“There is no issue with the budget,” he said, “because there isno budget. Is this a job or your career?”
“Both,” I admitted. “I’m not where I want to be, but networking is important. I just have to wait until something opens up.”
He nodded slowly. “So you’re going to keep showing up. Good.”
What business was it of his? I wasn’t keen on being irritated with him, especially after the whole… that whole mess. But, none of this concerned him and had nothing to do with us going on dates.
“I took a couple days off for Mama and the doctor,” I lied, because the thought of facing everyone after the news spread made me nauseous. It would happen sooner or later, but I’d rather it be later. “I’m going back tomorrow.”
“Good.” Vitali went over to the bookcase where a row of drawers crowded what should be the bottom shelves. Mama kept the silverware and holiday tablecloths in ours. There was a keyhole, but she lost the key before Maxim was born and it never locked. Vitali’s was locked because heunlockedit.
He did not keep tablecloths in his.
One by one, he casually began pulling out stacks of neatly pressed dollars crowned with hundreds.
“You keep showing up to work,” he said as he thumbed through one, “and you don’t tell Mama they’re not paying you. Find somewhere safe to hide these so they don’t come out all at once. Don’t deposit them in a bank—”
“No!” I finally regained my voice and sprung up, moving myback to the hallway. Ten different voices screamed inside me, and they all said this was wrong. “I’m not taking money from you. What are you thinking? Where did you even—” I spread my arms as if holding a crate of dollar bills.
His hands slacked, and his face took on genuine surprise. “What do you mean you’re not taking money from me? This is your money. I’m just counting it for you.”
