Read Online The Summer Garden by Paullina Simons - Free Book Online
Authors: Paullina Simons
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Tatiana kept a firm arm on him.
“He won’t help you either,” she said. “Not with this.”
“Why not? Have you asked him how many of his own men he had shot to spare them agony?” Nick cried. “What, he hasn’t told you? Tell her, Captain. You shot them without thinking twice. Why won’t you do it for me now? Look at me!”
Tatiana stared at a darkly grim Alexander and then at Nick. “I know about my husband at war,” she said, her voice shaking. “But you leave him alone. He needs peace, too.”
“Please, Tania,” Nick whispered, bending his head into her hand. “Look at me. My revels now are ended. Have mercy on me. Just give me the morphine. It’s not violent, I’ll feel no pain. I’ll just drift off. It’s kind. It’s right.”
Tatiana looked questioningly up at Alexander.
“I’m begging you,” said Nick, seeing her vacillation.
Alexander pulled Tatiana up out of the chair. “Stop this, both of you,” he said, in a voice that brooked no argument, not even from the colonel. “You two have lost your minds. Good night.”
Later, in bed, they didn’t speak for a long while. Tatiana was scooped narrowly into him.
“Tania…tell me, were you going to kill Nick so that I wouldn’t spend any more time with him?”
“Don’t be ridi—” she broke off. “The man is dying. The man wants to be dead. Can’t you see that?”
With difficulty came Alexander’s reply. “I see it.”
Oh God.
“Help him, Alexander,” said Tatiana. “Take him to Bangor, to the Army Hospital. I know he doesn’t want to go, but he needs to go. The nurses are trained to take care of people like him. They will put the cigarettes in his mouth, they will read to him. They will care for him. He will live.” That man can’t be around you. You can’t be around him.
Alexander stopped talking. “Should I go to Bangor Hospital, too?” he asked.
“No, darling, no, Shura,” she whispered. “You have your own nurse right here. Round the clock.”
“Tania…”
“ Please… shh.” They were whispering desperately, he into her hair, she into the pillow in front of her.
“Tania, would you…do it for me, if I asked? If I was…like him—”
He broke off.
“Faster than you can say Sachsenhausen.”
Click click somewhere, crickets crickets, bats and wings, Anthony snoring in the silence, in the sorrow. There was once so much Tatiana could help Alexander with. Why couldn’t she do it anymore?
Soundlessly she cried, only her shoulders quaking.
The next day Alexander took the colonel to the Bangor Army Hospital, four hours away. They left in the early morning. Tatiana filled their flasks, made them sandwiches, and washed and ironed Alexander’s khaki fatigues and a long-sleeved crew.
Before he left he asked, crouching by Anthony’s small frame, “You want me to bring you something back?”
“Yes, a toy soldier,” replied Anthony.
“You got it.” Alexander ruffled his hair and straightened up. “What about you?” he asked Tatiana, coming close to her.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said, purposefully casual. “I don’t need anything.” She was trying to look beyond his bronze eyes, into somewhere deeper, somewhere that would tell her what he was thinking, what he was feeling, trying to reach across the ocean waters she could not traverse.
Nick was already in the camper, and his wife and daughter were milling nearby. Too many people around. The backs of Alexander’s fingers stroked her cheek. “Be a good girl,” he said, kissing her hand. She pressed her forehead into his chest for a moment before he stepped away.
When he was near the cab of the Nomad, he turned around. Tatiana, standing still and erect, squeezed hard Anthony’s hand, but that was the only indication of the turmoil within her, for to Alexander she presented herself straight and true. She even managed to smile. She blew him a kiss. Her hand went up to her temple in a trembling salute.
Alexander didn’t come back that
“He won’t help you either,” she said. “Not with this.”
“Why not? Have you asked him how many of his own men he had shot to spare them agony?” Nick cried. “What, he hasn’t told you? Tell her, Captain. You shot them without thinking twice. Why won’t you do it for me now? Look at me!”
Tatiana stared at a darkly grim Alexander and then at Nick. “I know about my husband at war,” she said, her voice shaking. “But you leave him alone. He needs peace, too.”
“Please, Tania,” Nick whispered, bending his head into her hand. “Look at me. My revels now are ended. Have mercy on me. Just give me the morphine. It’s not violent, I’ll feel no pain. I’ll just drift off. It’s kind. It’s right.”
Tatiana looked questioningly up at Alexander.
“I’m begging you,” said Nick, seeing her vacillation.
Alexander pulled Tatiana up out of the chair. “Stop this, both of you,” he said, in a voice that brooked no argument, not even from the colonel. “You two have lost your minds. Good night.”
Later, in bed, they didn’t speak for a long while. Tatiana was scooped narrowly into him.
“Tania…tell me, were you going to kill Nick so that I wouldn’t spend any more time with him?”
“Don’t be ridi—” she broke off. “The man is dying. The man wants to be dead. Can’t you see that?”
With difficulty came Alexander’s reply. “I see it.”
Oh God.
“Help him, Alexander,” said Tatiana. “Take him to Bangor, to the Army Hospital. I know he doesn’t want to go, but he needs to go. The nurses are trained to take care of people like him. They will put the cigarettes in his mouth, they will read to him. They will care for him. He will live.” That man can’t be around you. You can’t be around him.
Alexander stopped talking. “Should I go to Bangor Hospital, too?” he asked.
“No, darling, no, Shura,” she whispered. “You have your own nurse right here. Round the clock.”
“Tania…”
“ Please… shh.” They were whispering desperately, he into her hair, she into the pillow in front of her.
“Tania, would you…do it for me, if I asked? If I was…like him—”
He broke off.
“Faster than you can say Sachsenhausen.”
Click click somewhere, crickets crickets, bats and wings, Anthony snoring in the silence, in the sorrow. There was once so much Tatiana could help Alexander with. Why couldn’t she do it anymore?
Soundlessly she cried, only her shoulders quaking.
The next day Alexander took the colonel to the Bangor Army Hospital, four hours away. They left in the early morning. Tatiana filled their flasks, made them sandwiches, and washed and ironed Alexander’s khaki fatigues and a long-sleeved crew.
Before he left he asked, crouching by Anthony’s small frame, “You want me to bring you something back?”
“Yes, a toy soldier,” replied Anthony.
“You got it.” Alexander ruffled his hair and straightened up. “What about you?” he asked Tatiana, coming close to her.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said, purposefully casual. “I don’t need anything.” She was trying to look beyond his bronze eyes, into somewhere deeper, somewhere that would tell her what he was thinking, what he was feeling, trying to reach across the ocean waters she could not traverse.
Nick was already in the camper, and his wife and daughter were milling nearby. Too many people around. The backs of Alexander’s fingers stroked her cheek. “Be a good girl,” he said, kissing her hand. She pressed her forehead into his chest for a moment before he stepped away.
When he was near the cab of the Nomad, he turned around. Tatiana, standing still and erect, squeezed hard Anthony’s hand, but that was the only indication of the turmoil within her, for to Alexander she presented herself straight and true. She even managed to smile. She blew him a kiss. Her hand went up to her temple in a trembling salute.
Alexander didn’t come back that
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