Chapter Nine:

Goodbyes have always been difficult for me. The sad truth is even if it’s only temporary, a million things could happen before we have the chance to be reunited with our loved ones again. I’d prefer to stay in one spot, or travel cautiously with Francine. In fact, I’d never ventured outside of Russia before meeting my American life partner on that queer website almost two years ago. I always hoped Russia would accept gay rights in my lifetime, but it was a foolish wish. After living so freely in the United States, it angered me to have to return to the shadows temporarily. I found it strangely ironic how I was going back to Siberia now for answers I wasn’t sure I really wanted...but I suppose the unknown scares me more than goodbyes, or temporary loss of total freedom.

I reminded Francine of that as she cried in my arms late last night, and again before kissing her sleepy expression on my way out to the taxi cab. She offered to take me to the airport, but it’s just too sad. Both times we left each other behind have been devastating, and the memories of those departures still sit with me. For this reason, I’d decided to write her an elaborate parting letter once she’d fallen asleep and made the plan to slip out before she knew what I was doing. Francine would read the note and understand. I wanted to think of her peacefully asleep, dreaming of beautiful adventures instead of watching her cry in pain on my way to board the plane. Besides, my girlfriend isn’t a morning person. She’s an evening manager for a good reason- it’d be cruel to ask her to drive forty minutes anywhere at six in the morning.

I was impressed with my English skills, since they got me to Sky Harbor airport effortlessly and in record time. In a sleepy state, I forked over all my identification to three different security points. Five of my suitcases had been checked in, and the carry on backpack I owned was stuffed with my laptop, earphones, and a neck pillow. As I waited to board, I stopped by a overpriced café for a large hot expresso and an everything bagel. Getting comfortable with my breakfast at a nearby table, I pulled my phone out to write my dad on VK. After logging into my account, I discovered he’d already written and smiled because of course he did.

VK (Andrei Krovopuskov): Vasilisochka, I hope the day is treating you kindly. Please give my love to Francine and Ember. I’ve fit all my business meetings in before your arrival, and I should be able to meet with you at Roshchino International once your plane touches down. If anything changes, I’ll let you know. I don’t care if it’s late for me, please call when you’re changing flights. If I had to guess you’re probably going to New York, like Francine had when she came to visit us. I can’t wait to see you again moya Lastochka. In English, he means “my little swallow”- but to Russians, it’s more like “babycakes.”

With my smile growing, I respond.

VK (Vasilisa Krovopuskova): It’s nice to receive your message papa. It’s very early here, but I’ll rest on the plane. I’ll call you not a moment after I’m able to. Yes, I’ll switch in New York City and again in Moscow. I’m looking forward to drinking tea and talking with you about life again. We’ll be in the same room again twenty four hours from now.

I sent the reply and stuck one hard black headphone in so I could enjoy some music. Би-2 (bi-2) blasted into my eardrum and I leaned against the white plastic chair. Shuffling their playlist, I stop when my favorite song, “Spark Off”, begins to play.

“Greedily swallows the sun

Жадно так глотает солнце

Two silver wings

Два серебряных крыла

Your dear friend will not return

Милый друг твой не вернётся

To this city never

В этот город никогда

And the lights of tired streets

И огни усталых улиц

Will miss you

Станут по тебе скучать

Only they are sad

Только им печаль такую-“

“Good morning, and welcome to Sky Harbor Airport. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 13A non-stop to New York City. We are now inviting those passengers with first and business class tickets to begin boarding at this time-“ An older woman with slicked back silver hair began speaking into a small microphone from her podium, and I gathered my carry on bag and what remained of my breakfast. I silently began having a conversation with myself.

Well, here you are Vasha. You don’t have to do this. Go home to Francine. Continue learning English and living your life happily in the USA. Anything Evgeniya has to say she can tell you over Skype. It’s not too late to turn around.

Despite my discouraging thoughts, I kept moving. The line diminished quickly until it was my turn to scan my boarding pass. As our announcing attendant tried taking the ticket, I gripped onto it.

“Ma’am?” She raised an eyebrow and tugged. I heard a few whispers behind me and snapped out of my trance.

“Excuse me.” I mumbled with mild embarrassment, reluctantly letting go. She offered an understanding nod and passed it back.

“No worries dear. Have a safe flight!”

“Thank you.” I nodded back and hurried down the long walkway to the plane. Dread pooled in my heart with every step toward my destination, but I was determined to go through with it. Within minutes I stepped inside the aircraft and got settled into my spacious window seat. Normally, I’d order a strong alcoholic beverage to help knock me out but my sobriety is going so well and besides, I was exhausted from comforting and fucking Francine the night before. Instead, I buckled up and slumped against the window with my arms tightly crossed. Before I could tune into any additional announcements, I saw my vision fade as I surrendered to the weight of my heavy eyelids. Then, the merciful quiet gently swept me away from my physical being.

********************

Francine’s Point of View:

I felt myself roll over with a groan and reached out for Vasha. “Detka...” I muttered softly. “What time does your flight-“ stopping mid-sentence, I pat the left side of our bed and felt nothing but the cool material of our sheets. “Vash?” I called out a little louder. Nothing. What the fuck? I didn’t hear the shower going...maybe she was out back smoking, something I really wish she’d stop doing. Sitting up in bed, I scratched my head with confusion. The clock on my alarm read nine forty five A.M.

Why didn’t it go off at four thirty!?

“Hey Ember, want some breakfast bud?” I smiled at our jet black cat when he jumped in bed to sniff my hand.

“Puuuuurrrrrrr meeeeow!”

“I’ll bet you do.” I hopped down and started walking toward the kitchen with Ember at my heels. Poked my head in the bathroom, no Vasha, but her black towel was draped over the railing of our shower. As I was getting Ember’s food down, I noticed his bowl had been decently filled already and grabbed his bag of treats instead. “What Mamulya doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” I whispered, hand feeling him three soft pellets.

To avoid confusion when speaking to Ember, Vasha is “Mamulya”, and I’m “Mamochka.” It doesn’t make a difference to me, but Vash insisted it was important to distinguish the two so I didn’t argue. As Ember licked his chops and wandered off to go do whatever it is he does, I made a beeline for the door leading to our patio. I wasn’t surprised to find it empty, and gently closed it. My heart seized painfully in my chest. Did Vasha try to wake me up and couldn’t, so she had to call an Uber? Maybe my alarm went off after all but I was just dead to the world. While heading back into the bedroom for my phone, an unlit candle with a piece of folded lined paper underneath it caught my eye. Without hesitation, I opened it gingerly and recognized my lover’s beautiful loopy cursive writing immediately.

My bunny,

Remember the first time I came to the United States for a visit? We shared so many memories but there’s one I wish I could forget. You were standing right beside my terminal, as far as you could go to watch me board the plane back home. I told you I loved you, but you were crying too hard to respond. It was one of the saddest days of my life.

When you came to Russia and left on bad terms with me, I wanted to run into the middle of the road to relieve the pain once and for all.

We aren’t good at these kind of goodbyes, detka. I left you blissfully sleeping, and that’s how I want to think of you until I come home. Don’t worry, I kissed you and said my prayers. Ember has been fed too. I love you, my Ocean. My cosmos. My fire.

Infinitely yours,

Vasilisa K.

By the time I stopped reading, a few tears had slipped onto the letter.

Vasha left on her own...she didn’t want me there to see her off.

I tried so hard not to take it personal, but felt myself losing the battle as I sank to the floor and sobbed. I knew Vasha could take care of herself, but I wanted to get her some breakfast since she likes eating right when she wakes up, but might be too nervous to remember. I didn’t want her to struggle speaking English to those she relied on to board her flight on time. I wanted to straighten her collar and kiss her as many times as I could before she’d disappear for two weeks. It’s so hard to explain the type of love I have for Vasilisa. Anyone who’s met their soulmate would understand. You only get one in life, and I found mine living halfway across the world. We’ve been through hell and back; Having Vasha here is everything I never knew I could obtain, and although she’s only visiting Russia for a couple weeks, I’m beyond depressed that I couldn’t come with. I understood why though. She wanted to protect me, which is just one of the many ways she showcases her love.

Reassuring thoughts rushed forward as I stood back up and pressed the letter to my lips. Vasha had the roughest childhood of anyone I’d ever met by far, and I thought mine was bad. Her birth mother left her at a home for children, where she was systematically abused and tormented until she aged out and was thrown headfirst onto the streets at eighteen. Andrei, Vasha’s wonderful dad, didn’t find her until years later and by that time she was jaded, untrusting, and heavily addicted to alcohol.

I knew my little bat inside and out, and so the second she told me her mother wrote, I anticipated all of this. She deserved answers to her burning questions in person, and I’d never make her feel bad for that. If it were me personally I’d cut my losses and move on, but that’s the biggest difference between Vasilisa and I. I’m a runner. I run, and I’m fine with running. Especially from toxic situations. Vasha is a fighter. She stays, and faces everything head on because she had to her whole life. Neither is necessarily good or bad, because everything should have balance...but we’re extreme people. We give all or nothing.

I was about to go lay back down, but a knock at the door caused me to turn around and head toward it. Vasha always harps on me to check the peephole, but I’m too damn short for that. She’s got an extra two inches on me and has to stand on her tiptoes to reach it.

“Who is it?” I ask through the crack. I recognized Liza’s sniffling and threw the door open. My best friend stood on our porch with tears streaking her cheeks.

“I miss her already.” She cried, rushing into my arms. I took a second to think about how close she and Brody became, and started feeling guilty for crying about Vasha’s departure. She’s coming back in two weeks. It’ll be two years before Liza can kiss her girlfriend again.

“I know, Liz.” I soothed, gripping onto her red hair and rocking in place slightly.

“No...there’s more.” She pulled away and drew a deep breath before bursting into tears again. My heart raced.

“What? What is it?”

Liza’s distraught blue eyes made me shake her arms gently. When she was finally able to speak, she whimpered “Brody broke up with me.”