Elena and Mikael would lie in bed, talking for hours about how Communism had neglected the heart of its appeal – its very reason for existing. She’d found his passion beguiling and was flattered to be involved. In contrast to Mikael’s beliefs, none of her immediate family seemed to possess any ideology. Raisa never spoke about politics beyond issues that directly affected her school. Leo was silent on the topic, as if it were prohibited. Elena pitied him: he’d been forced to work for a tyrant and his idealism had been corrupted. For him, there was no going back. He had lost his sense of hope. Outside of his family, he didn’t believe in anything any more. Just because he was disillusioned didn’t mean that she had to be too. Mikael was a man she believed in. Her older sister had once confided in her about the experience of falling in love. Elena had never fully understood the feelings her sister had described until she’d met Mikael. Love was admiration and devotion; love was doing anything for him because she knew he would do anything for her.

The cab had just passed West 120th Street – approaching her destination, on West 145th Street.

Bradhurst

Harlem - West 145th Street

Same Day

As Yates walked down the stairs, he passed the same good-for-nothing young men slouching in the corridors. He nodded at them:

—Busy day, gentlemen?

They didn’t reply. Yates laughed. He doubted whether any of them could name a single song that Austin used to sing. “Big Red Voice” had once played to audiences in the millions and now he was forgotten by Negroes and white men alike, forgotten by the rich and poor. He doubted if these men in these hallways even realized who the old man on the top floor was. Certainly no one younger than thirty would have any recollection of his success. Jesse was no longer played on the radio. His records weren’t in stores. His words were no longer printed in newspapers, nor was he interviewed in glossy magazines. So weakened was he that he didn’t even have the strength of heart to stand up for his wife when she was insulted in front of his face. It was one thing to smash a man’s career: that was relatively straightforward. It was quite another thing to break a man’s spirit. Having watched Jesse move, seen how his body stooped, slumped in the doorway, barely able to argue back, Yates was sure he was close to that particular victory.