To the Ends of the Earth

“She has many foreign friends,” Olga said. “That is why I wanted you to meet her. Because you are our foreign friend. You want to change rubles?”

I said no—there was nothing I wanted to buy.

“We can find something for you,” Olga said, “and you can give us U.S. dollars.”

“What are you going to find?”

“You like Natasha. Natasha likes you. Why don’t you make love to her?”

I stood up and went to the window. The three women stared at me, and when I looked at Natasha she smiled demurely and batted her eyelashes. Beside her was her shopping basket with a box of detergent, some fresh spinach wrapped in newspaper, some cans of food, a pack of plastic clothespins, and a box of disposable diapers.

“Here?” I said. “Now?”

They all smiled at me. Out of the window people were sweeping the pavements, and raking leaves, and shoveling up piles of rubbish—a little unselfish demonstration of civic pride for Lenin’s birthday.

“How much will it cost me to make love to Natasha?”

“It will cost one hundred and seventy U.S. dollars.”

“That’s rather a precise figure,” I said. “How did you arrive at that price?”

“That’s how much a cassette recorder costs at the Berioska shop.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You have to decide now,” Olga said sternly. “Do you have a credit card?”

“You take credit cards?”

“No, the Berioska shop can.”

“That’s an awful lot of money, Olga.”

“Hah!” Tatyana jeered. “My boyfriends give me radios, tape recorders, cassettes, clothes—thousands of dollars. And you’re arguing about a few hundred dollars.”

“Listen, I’m not boasting—believe me. But if I like someone I don’t usually buy her before we go to bed. In America we do it for fun.”

Olga said, “If we don’t have dollars we can’t buy radios at the Berioska. It closes at six o’clock. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like being hurried.”

“All this talk! You could have finished by now!”

I hated this and had a strong desire to get away from the nagging. It was hot in the kitchen, the tea was bitter, all those people raking leaves sixteen floors down depressed me.

I said, “Why don’t we go to the Berioska shop first?”

Tatyana dressed and we found a taxi. It was a twenty-minute ride and well after five by the time we arrived. But for me it was simply a way of saving face—and saving money. I had been disgusted with myself back there in the flat.

Before we went into the shop the three women started bickering. Olga said that it was all my fault for not making love to Natasha when I should have. Tatyana had to meet her daughter at school, Natasha was due home because she was going to the Black Sea tomorrow with her husband and small child—and was counting on having a cassette recorder; and Olga herself had to be home to cook dinner. “Vremya,” Natasha said, “vremya.” Time, time.

I had never seen such expensive electronic equipment—overpriced radios and tape decks, a Sony Walkman, for $300.

“Natasha wants one of those.”

Olga was pointing to a $200 cassette machine.

“That’s a ridiculous price.”

“It’s a good cassette. Japanese.”

I was looking at Natasha and thinking how thoroughly out of touch these people were with market forces.

“Vremya,” Natasha said urgently.

“These are nice.” I began trying on the fur hats. “Wouldn’t you like one of these?”

Olga said, “You must buy something now. Then we go.”

And I imagined it—the cassette recorder in a Berioska bag, and the dash to Tatyana’s and the fumble upstairs with Natasha panting “Vremya, vremya,” and then off I’d go, saying to myself: You’ve just been screwed.

I said, “Tatyana, your daughter’s waiting at school. Olga, your husband’s going to want his dinner on time. And Natasha, you’re very nice, but if you don’t go home and pack you’ll never make it to the Black Sea with your husband.”

“What are you doing?”

“I have an appointment,” I said, and left, as the Berioska shop was closing.

I went to the Bolshoi, and I noticed at the cloakroom and the buffet and the bar Russian women gave me frank looks. It was not lust or romance, merely curiosity because they had spotted a man who probably had hard currency. It was not the sort of look women usually offered. It was an unambiguous lingering gaze, a half smile that said: Maybe we can work something out.

Mongols

THE MONGOLS REACHED THE EASTERN LIMITS OF CHINA. They rode to Afghanistan. They rode to Poland. They sacked Moscow, Warsaw, and Vienna. They had stirrups—they introduced stirrups to Europe (and in that made jousting possible and perhaps started the Age of Chivalry). They rode for years, in all seasons. When the Russians retired from their campaigns for the winter, the Mongols kept riding and recruiting in the snow. They devised an ingenious tactic for their winter raids: they waited for rivers to freeze and then they rode on the ice. In this way they could go anywhere and they surprised their enemies. They were tough and patient and by the year 1280 they had conquered half the world.