BooksBarbecue
Back A Train to Moscow: A Novel Save as PDF
Chapters (59)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION
  4. CONTENTS
  5. ACT 1 IVANOVO
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. ACT 2 MOSCOW
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. ACT 3 LENINGRAD
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. ACT 4 IVANOVO-LENINGRAD
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  58. DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
  59. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

But I did hear her, and I knew exactly what she was asking. I wanted to tell her that nothing bad was going to happen to her, that I would kill any bastard who would so much as attempt to touch her, that I would always be there to protect her. But we both knew that if the NKVD came for her and her mother, the same way they came for Naum Semenovich, there would be nothing I could do to stop them. We both knew what I would never tell her, what could not be acknowledged if we wanted to stay sane and go on with our lives.

“Nothing bad will happen to you,” I said. “I promise.”

She didn’t respond, still looking down into the water raging under the bridge.

I took her by the shoulders and made her look at me. “I promise. Do you hear me? I promise.” Her eyes seemed dark and set deeper in her head, eyes of an older person full of sad wisdom. “I will always be here to protect you.”

She nodded and looked left, where for a minute the sun blazed into the windows of the Hermitage from under the clouds torn by the wind.

“I know,” she said.

Sasha closes the notebook with a sigh, wishing that Andrei, too, were always there to protect her.

25

25

In the spring of her last year at the drama school, there is the most important exam of all, the scene that will determine whether they will spend their lives playing important roles on the Moscow stage or huddling in mass scenes in provincial theaters. “You’d better be ready to show everything you’ve learned,” their artistic director Vera tells them, “or you’ll get a failing dvoika in acting, and they’ll ship you straight to Pinsk to organize an acting club for janitors in their local House of Culture.”

For this exam, they are allowed to choose their own scenes, and what Sasha chooses makes Vera light up a cigarette and silently gaze into the distance.

“This is not your role,” she finally says and exhales a puff of smoke.

“But this is what I want to play,” Sasha insists. Like everyone else, she wants to play a heroine.

“Child,” says Vera, calling her what she calls all her fellow students. To her, they are all naive and silly children, and she is here to guide them through the maze of Theater, lighting their way with an acting master’s torch of wisdom. “Listen to what I tell you. We know you, as an actress, better than you know yourself.”