Sashenka

Zeitlin inhaled his cigar. Their marriage had diminished to these brief exchanges before each plunged, separately, into the St. Petersburg night, though they still attended balls and formal dinners together. He glanced at the unmade bed, where his wife spent so much time sleeping during the day. He looked at the dresses in batiste, chiffon and silk, at the bottles of potions and perfumes, at the half-smoked cigarettes, at the healing crystals, and all those other fads and luxuries, but he looked longest at Ariadna with her snow-white skin, her wide shoulders and her violet eyes. She was still beautiful, even if her eyes were bloodshot and the veins stood out in her temples.

She opened her hands and reached out to him, her tuberose perfume mixing deliciously with that of her skin, but he was too anxious to play their usual games.

“Sashenka’s been arrested by the gendarmes,” he told her. “Right at the school gates. She’s in the Kresty for the night. Can you imagine the cells there?”

Ariadna blinked. A tiny frown appeared on her pale face. “It must be a misunderstanding. She’s so bookish, it’s hard to imagine she’d do anything silly.” She looked at him. “Surely you can get her out tonight, Samuil? Call the Interior Minister. Doesn’t he owe you money?”

“I’ve just called Protopopov and he says it’s serious.”

“Nyana?” Ariadna beckoned to her lady’s maid. “I think I’ll wear the mauve brocade with the gold leaf and flounces from Madame Chanceau, and I’ll have the pearl choker and the sapphire brooch…”

Zeitlin was losing his patience. “That’s enough, Ariadna.” He switched to Yiddish so the servants could not understand. “Stop lolling there like a chorus girl, dammit! We’re talking about Sashenka.” He switched back to Russian, casting a black glance around the disorderly room: “Girls! Leave us alone!” Zeitlin knew that his tempers were as rare as they were fearsome and the three maids abandoned the dresses and jewels and curling tongs and scurried out.

“Was that really necessary?” asked Ariadna, her voice quivering, tears welling in her kohl-smeared eyes.

But Zeitlin was all business. “Are you seeing Rasputin?”

“Yes, I’m visiting the Elder Grigory tonight. After midnight. Don’t speak of him in that mocking tone, Samuil. When Dr. Badaev’s Mongolian lama hypnotized me at the House of Spirits, he said I needed a special teacher. He was right. The Elder Grigory helps me, nourishes me spiritually. He says I’m a gentle lamb in a metal world, and that you crush me. You think I’m happy in this house?”

“We’re here to talk about Sashenka,” he protested, but Ariadna’s voice was rising.

“Remember, Samuil, when we used to go to the ballet, every set of binoculars was aimed at me, not the stage? ‘What is Baroness Zeitlin wearing? Look at her eyes, her jewels, her lovely shoulders…’ When the officers looked at me, they thought, There’s a fine racehorse, a Thoroughbred—it might be worth having a guilty conscience for that one! Weren’t you proud of me then, Samuil? And now—just look at me!”

Zeitlin stood up angrily. “This is not about you, Ariadna. Try to remember we’re talking about our child!”

“I’m sorry. I’m listening…”

“Mendel’s back from exile.” He saw her shrug. “Oh, so you knew that? Well, he’s probably played some part in our daughter’s incarceration.”

He knelt down beside the divan and took her hands. “Look, Protopopov doesn’t control things. Even Premier Sturmer has no influence—he’s about to be replaced. Everything’s in the hands of the Empress and Rasputin. So this time I want you to go to Rasputin’s—I need you to go there! I’m delighted you have access, and I don’t care how long you spend being pawed by the sacred peasant. Tell him he’s in luck tonight. Only you can do this, Ariadna. Just get in there and petition all of them—Rasputin, the Empress’s friends, whoever, to get Sashenka out!”

“You’re sending me on a mission?” Ariadna shook herself like a cat flicking off rain.

“Yes.”

“Me on a political mission? I like the sound of that.” She paused and Zeitlin could almost hear the wheels turning as she came to a decision. “I’ll show you what a good mama I am.” She rose from the divan and pulled the braid cord by her side. “Girls—get back in here! I’ve got to look my best.” The maids returned, looking gingerly at Zeitlin. “And what will you be doing, Samuil?”

“I’m going to hold my nose and go to Prince Andronnikov’s. They’ll all be there.”

Ariadna seized Zeitlin’s face between her hands. Her spicy breath and tuberose scent made his eyes water.

“You and me on a mission, Samuil!”