Chapter 12

The Meltdown

Fall’1998

That summer, the divorce was finalized, its terms generous, I later learned. We could stay in the house for two more years, and Papa would pay Mama alimony during that time. After the divorce ruling, Mama, Vlada and Zhanna got together to celebrate.

“I’ll start those English classes.” Mama mused, pouring them coffee, then adding the cognac.

“Great idea.” Vlada nodded.

“Maybe you can meet someone else?” Zhanna opened her eyes wide. “After you learn English. You could meet a nice American guy.” In response, Mama giggled. I could tell she was pleased.

I’d stopped asking her about Papa, though I still ached to see him. I started the third grade that year, and Sergei was a senior in high school. He surprised everyone by doing well on his SATs and was applying to colleges. Or, rather, to just one college. To Pitt. Sergei decided to major in Philosophy there, so he could focus on his favorite German philosopher, Heidegger.

The three of us, Mama, Sergei and I, were now happily settled in Pittsburgh. At least for the next two years, until the alimony ran out, and we had to move.

***

It was a beautiful October day. Crisp, sunny weather. The leaves had turned yellow and orange, and, unusually for Pittsburgh, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I snuck out of my first period class and left the school building through the back door. I’d never cut school before, had only seen it in movies. But Stewart had come to me in a dream and told me to go to Schenley park. He told me there was a surprise waiting for me there.

Carefully, I made my way through the alleys to the Greenfield Bridge. It was a short walk, and, once there, I ran across it and walked down in the direction of Panther Hollow road, just as Stewart had instructed me to do. I knew the road well. Sergei and I had walked to the pool over the summer that way. I turned on to the trail to the left and walked down the path, looking left and right. Stewart hadn’t told me what the surprise was, and I hoped it was a fox. I’d been wanting a pet for some time, and decided a pet fox would be the perfect addition to our family.

And that’s when I heard it. It was Papa’s voice. He spoke Russian. I froze in place. That’s what Mama and I always did if we heard anyone speak Russian in public. His voice was faint, with the sounds of the trail, the birds and the noise of I-376 drowning it out.

“No need.” Papa said. “Ne nado.” It was definitely him. Papa. I dashed toward the sound. Papa had come back for me! He was in the park. He wanted to see me.

I moved fast, turned the corner, and saw Papa. He was pushing a stroller. Next to him was Marina. She looked fatter and was dressed in a long, flowing dress. Her belly was protruding. I could tell when she leaned to the stroller and tucked the swaddling cloth. She cooed. Papa put his hand on the small of her back and said something to her. She giggled. Papa pushed the stroller forward, and they disappeared from view.

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I stood, unable to move. Papa had a new family. A son. I was sure the baby in the stroller was a boy. A real son, not like me. I turned back and ran. I ran all the way back home, out of the park, across Greenfield bridge and up the hill to our house.

I made it home, panting, sweating.

I opened the front door and walked in. I was struck by the smell. The absence of the smell of coffee. With Mama drinking four or five cups of coffee all morning long, our house smelled perpetually of coffee. But not that day.

“Mama?” I called. There was no answer. I sighed and went to the kitchen. The dishes from our breakfast, leftover cereal, half-eaten eggs, were sitting in the sink, unwashed.

“Mama!” I called out, louder now, and went upstairs. The door to Mama’s bedroom was closed. My hand trembled as pulled down on the lever. The air in the room was stale, unmoving. I gulped. I saw her face. It wasn’t hers. It was a mask. Her eyes were staring into nothingness. Her face was yellow.

“Mama?” I stepped closer to her and touched her hand. It was heavy and stiff. And very cold.

I pulled back and screamed. I ran downstairs, out of the house and all the way to Vlada’s house.

“Help!!!” I yelled, rushing into Vlada’s home.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Vlada took one look at me and put her coat on. “Come on.”

“Stay here.” Vlada ordered when we got to our house. I said nothing, but waited for her, standing guard by the front door.

Vlada went upstairs and after a moment, I heard a wail.

That’s the last thing I remember. When I came to, I was in an unfamiliar bedroom. It was dark, with black sheets and dark curtains. The smell was stale, like the bedroom hadn’t been used in a long time. Vlada was standing over me, holding Stewart.

“Thank God!” She touched my face, then reached to feel my forehead. “No fever.” She mumbled to herself and handed me the toy. I hugged the fox and put him next to me on the pillow.

“Mama.” I called softly.

“Mama isn’t here.” Vlada responded. Her voice cracked. “You are going to stay with me now. You and Sergei.”

“Where is Mama?” I insisted. “I want to see her.” Lifting myself up, I perched on my elbow and looked around the room.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.” Vlada brushed her hand against my cheek. Tears streamed down her face.

I clutched at the fox, willing the vision to go away. I wanted to be back in our living room, controller in my hands. To see Stewart moving on the screen, jumping and running, obeying my commands. To hear Mama call me to dinner.

But that was in the past. A was about to enter a new phase of my life.

***

Spring’99

“Can you believe it? He never even returned my phone calls!” Vlada was sitting in her own kitchen, drinking coffee. Zhanna sat in front of her, hand under her chin, listening intently.

I was in Vlada’s living room, playing Stewart. The one constant in my life.

“You’re an angel for taking the kids in. You really are, Vlada.”

“Come on, it’s the right thing to do. Poor children. I just can’t believe he didn’t even come to the funeral. Nothing! Didn’t offer to help with the arrangements, as if he wasn’t married to her.”

“Some people are just cruel.”

“He is a monster. Didn’t return my calls. Just pretended like he never even knew the kids.”

“So sad.”

“Sergei will start college next year, and it’ll be just Rodion.” Vlada’s low voice boomed. I’d been hearing some variation of this conversation regularly ever since Mama’s funeral, and usually didn’t pay it much mind.

But this time I perked my ears.

“They’re lucky to have you.”

“Poor Lydia. She must have been in so much pain. But never showed it.” Vlada said.

“Acute liver failure!” Zhanna noted. “Poor soul.”

“She couldn’t afford to go to the ER, was afraid of medical bills.”

“Philip as good as killed her.”

“That he did. Poor Lydia.”

I sat, my mouth gaping open. Papa as good as killed Mama. Zhanna’s words reverberated in my ears. Papa killed Mama. He was to blame.