whichwere cold and inhuman. I should have called out to him, told him, Donât spy on me, Batyk (for it was Batyk): Donât spy on me. Thereâs nothing here for you to take back to Nelly or Vasily, nothing I would be ashamed of. Even if I did go home with great fear in my heart, the tremendous anguish of having danced like that, unstoppably, thinking: Dancing for what? With what end in mind? Dancing continually like a man possessed until the last song, whether commented upon or without commentary. God! When I had a house, a job, my pupil awaiting me. What if they could take advantage of my late homecoming, those who were spying on me (if it wasnât Batyk), the ones inside the house were so afraid of; what if they were waiting for me to open the door so as to erupt violently into the garden. Not Batyk, I repeat: the Russian mafiosi they were all so fearful of, the ones they never stopped talking about. Waiting outside until dawn in order to get into the house.
But no: it had been him, Batyk.
If not, then where did that comment come from, the one that stopped me in my tracks, asking myself ⦠How does she know that I dance? Frenetically? (That was what she meant, your mother.) How does she know?
7
And then, two days later, back down to the city again. Your mother and I, arm in arm, strolling farther and farther from the little bay in search, I hoped, of a place where we wouldnât be seen. Then, at the end of that long walk, we sat down on a bench at the tip of a jetty and she kicked off her red moccasins and lifted her feet so that, after an instant of weightlessness, her calves rippled with a dense movement that touched me to the core. And I realized I loved her desperately and was full of tenderness for her.
On that dock, far out over the water, she was continually looking back at the pathâin case Batyk were coming, in case heâd followed us, I imagined then, but now I understand: she was debating whether to let me in on the secret. The water pounding beneath us like the motor of a boat about to speed away, the first spin of the propeller. Gazing at me while the dock behaved as if it were about to move, all the force of that water, and Nelly calculating whether or not to get me involved in it. If only she herself had weighed anchor, told me, putting her hand on her heart, gazing into my eyes, âStay here. Iâll be back in two weeks, Iâll call you.â Or, rather: âGo ahead, what are you going to do all alone here? Youâll get bored.â Separated by the blades of water down there between the boards, the sun in the sky. Stripes of water between the jettyâs planks and on her breast. And she was debating.
I saw that and was afraid for a moment that sheâd actually say something. I said something, spoke to her about what Iâd been paid. âYoudonât know how grateful I am. I will need, would have preferred cash, but no! Nelly, Iâm lying: How can I tell you? Itâs more than I was owed, much more â¦â
âLetâs go,â she interrupted.
Weâd be seeing more jewelry, I thought. Sheâd give me a few lessons on how to spend that money, the fortune it no doubt representedâa diamond! Then the rest of it seemed to happen under water, as if it was us flowing between the boards. The blur of beach-goers pretending to smoke in the sidewalk cafés, lighting a cigarette in an alley between two stores, the two of us sheltered from the wind, the narrow passageway with its service entrances and a man with a gun, visible for a second, before diving into the mist to fire at us from there, under cover. Leaving the shore at top speed, racing to a high point along the coast.
8
Like a pair of assistant directors scouting along the edge of a steep cliff for the right location to film a scene of love and complicity against the wide-open sky. The way she gave me her hand without looking at me, placing or lodging her moccasins in the
But no: it had been him, Batyk.
If not, then where did that comment come from, the one that stopped me in my tracks, asking myself ⦠How does she know that I dance? Frenetically? (That was what she meant, your mother.) How does she know?
7
And then, two days later, back down to the city again. Your mother and I, arm in arm, strolling farther and farther from the little bay in search, I hoped, of a place where we wouldnât be seen. Then, at the end of that long walk, we sat down on a bench at the tip of a jetty and she kicked off her red moccasins and lifted her feet so that, after an instant of weightlessness, her calves rippled with a dense movement that touched me to the core. And I realized I loved her desperately and was full of tenderness for her.
On that dock, far out over the water, she was continually looking back at the pathâin case Batyk were coming, in case heâd followed us, I imagined then, but now I understand: she was debating whether to let me in on the secret. The water pounding beneath us like the motor of a boat about to speed away, the first spin of the propeller. Gazing at me while the dock behaved as if it were about to move, all the force of that water, and Nelly calculating whether or not to get me involved in it. If only she herself had weighed anchor, told me, putting her hand on her heart, gazing into my eyes, âStay here. Iâll be back in two weeks, Iâll call you.â Or, rather: âGo ahead, what are you going to do all alone here? Youâll get bored.â Separated by the blades of water down there between the boards, the sun in the sky. Stripes of water between the jettyâs planks and on her breast. And she was debating.
I saw that and was afraid for a moment that sheâd actually say something. I said something, spoke to her about what Iâd been paid. âYoudonât know how grateful I am. I will need, would have preferred cash, but no! Nelly, Iâm lying: How can I tell you? Itâs more than I was owed, much more â¦â
âLetâs go,â she interrupted.
Weâd be seeing more jewelry, I thought. Sheâd give me a few lessons on how to spend that money, the fortune it no doubt representedâa diamond! Then the rest of it seemed to happen under water, as if it was us flowing between the boards. The blur of beach-goers pretending to smoke in the sidewalk cafés, lighting a cigarette in an alley between two stores, the two of us sheltered from the wind, the narrow passageway with its service entrances and a man with a gun, visible for a second, before diving into the mist to fire at us from there, under cover. Leaving the shore at top speed, racing to a high point along the coast.
8
Like a pair of assistant directors scouting along the edge of a steep cliff for the right location to film a scene of love and complicity against the wide-open sky. The way she gave me her hand without looking at me, placing or lodging her moccasins in the
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