hem. he was tall.

he was wearing a dress uniform. the beige fatigues looked like his sunday best, and his cap was ornate, with an enameled red star on the front. he wore wide parade shoulder boards in gray metallic lace. they looked impressive, but tatiana had no idea what they meant. was he a private? he was carrying his rifle. did privates carry rifles? on the left side of his chest he wore a single silver medal trimmed in gold.

underneath his umber cap he was dark-haired. the youth and dark hair were to his advantage, tatiana thought, as her shy eyes met his eyes, which were the color of caramel - one shade darker than her creme br?lee ice cream. were they a soldier's eyes? were they a man's eyes? they were peaceful and smiling.

tatiana and the soldier stared at each other for a moment or two, but it was a moment or two too long. strangers looked at each other for half a nothing before averting their eyes. tatiana felt as if she could open her mouth and say his name. she glanced away, feeling unsteady and warm.

"your ice cream is still melting," the soldier repeated helpfully.

blushing, tatiana said with haste, "oh, this ice cream. i'm finished with it." she got up and threw it emphatically in the trash, wishing she had a handkerchief to wipe her stained dress.

tatiana couldn't tell if he was young like her; no, he seemed older. like a young man, looking at her with a man's eyes. she blushed again, continuing to stare at the pavement between her red sandals and his black army boots.

a bus came. the soldier turned away from her and walked toward it. tatiana watched him. even his walk was from another world; the step was too sure, the stride too long, yet somehow it all seemed right, looked right, felt right. it was like stumbling on a book you thought you had lost. ah, yes, there it is.

in a minute the bus doors were going to open and he was going to hop on the bus and wave a little good-bye to her and she was never going to see him again. don't go! tatiana shouted to him in her mind.

as the soldier got closer to the bus, he slowed down and stopped. at the last minute he backed away, shaking his head at the bus driver, who made a frustrated motion with his hands, slammed the door shut, and peeled away from the curb.

the soldier came back and sat on the bench.

the rest of her day flew out of her head without even a farewell.

tatiana and the soldier were having a silence. how can we be having a silence? tatiana thought. we just met. wait. we haven't met at all. we don't know each other. how could we be having anything?

nervously she looked up and down the street. suddenly it occurred to her that he might be hearing the thumping in her chest, for how could he not? the noise had scared away the crows from the trees behind them. the birds had flown off in a panic, their wings flapping fervently. she knew - it was her.

now she needed her bus to come. now.

he was a soldier, yes, but she had seen soldiers before. and he was good-looking, yes, but she had seen good-looking before. once or twice last summer she had even met good-looking soldiers. one, she forgot his name now - as she forgot most things now - had bought her an ice cream.

it wasn't this soldier's uniform that affected her, and it wasn't his looks. it was the way he had stared at her from across the street, separated from her by ten meters of concrete, a bus, and the electric wires of the tram line.

he took a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his uniform. "would you like one?"

"oh, no, no," tatiana replied. "i don't smoke."

the soldier put the cigarettes back in his pocket. "i don't know anyone who doesn't smoke," he said lightly.

she and her grandfather were the only ones tatiana knew who didn't smoke. she couldn't continue to be silent; it was too pathetic. but when tatiana opened her mouth to speak, all the words she thought of saying sounded so stupid that she just closed her mouth and begged silently for the bus to come.

it didn't.

finally the soldier spoke again. "are you waiting for bus 22?"

"yes," tatiana replied in a tinny voice. "wait, no." she saw a bus with three digits coming up. it was number 136.

"this is the one i'm going to take," she said without thinking and quickly got up.

"one thirty-six?" she heard him mutter behind her.

tatiana walked toward it, took out five kopecks, and climbed aboard. after paying, she made her way to the back of the bus and sat down just in time to see the soldier getting on and making his way to the back.

he sat one seat behind her on the opposite side.

tatiana scooted over to the window and tried not to think of him. where did she intend to go on bus 136? oh, yes, that's the bus she took to marina's on polustrovsky prospekt. she would go there. she'd get off at polustrovsky and go ring marina's doorbell.

tatiana could see the soldier out of the corner of her eye.

where was he going on bus number 136?

the bus passed tauride park and turned at liteiny prospekt.

tatiana straightened out the folds of her dress and traced the embroidered shapes of the roses with her fingers. bending over between the seats, she adjusted her sandals. but mainly what she did was hope at every stop that the soldier would not get off. not here, she thought, not here. and not here either. where she wanted him to get off, tatiana didn't know; all she knew was that she didn't want him to get off here.

the soldier didn't. tatiana could tell he sat very calmly, looking out his window. occasionally he would turn toward the front of the bus, and then tatiana could swear he was looking at her.

after crossing liteiny bridge over the river neva, the bus continued across town. the few stores tatiana saw out the window either had long lines or were closed.

the streets became progressively emptier - bright, deserted leningrad streets.

stop after stop after stop went by. she was getting farther into north leningrad.

her head clearing briefly, tatiana realized she had long since passed marina's stop near polustrovsky. now she couldn't even tell where she was anymore. unsettled, she moved tensely around on the seat.

where was she going? she didn't know, but she couldn't get off the bus. first of all, the soldier was making no move to ring the bell, and second, she didn't know where she was. if tatiana got off here, she would have to cross the street and take the bus back.

what was she hoping for anyway? to watch where he got off and then come back here another day with marina? the thought made tatiana twitch with disquiet.

come back to find her soldier.

it was ridiculous. right now she was hoping merely for a graceful retreat and a way back home.

little by little, other people trickled off the bus. finally there was no one left except tatiana and the soldier.

the bus sped on. tatiana didn't know what to do anymore. the soldier was not getting off the bus. what have i gotten myself into? she thought. she decided to get off, but when she rang the bell, the bus driver turned around and said, "you want to get off here, girl? nothing here but industrial buildings. you meeting somebody?"

"uh, no," she stammered.

"well, then wait. next will be the last stop."

mortified, tatiana sat back down with a thump.

the bus pulled into a dusty terminal.

the driver said, "last stop."

tatiana got off the bus into a hot, earth-covered bus station, which was a square lot at the end of an empty street. she was afraid to turn around. she put her hand on her chest to still her relentless heart. what was she supposed to do now? nothing to do but take the bus back. slowly she walked out of the station.

after - and only after - taking the deepest breath, tatiana finally looked to her right, and there he was, smiling cheerfully at her. he had perfect white teeth - unusual for a russian. she couldn't help but smile back. relief must have shown in her face. relief and apprehension and anxiety; all that, and something else, too.

grinning, the soldier said, "all right, i give up. where are you going?"

what could tatiana say?

his russian was slightly accented. it was correct russian, just slightly accented. she tried to figure out if the accent and the white teeth came from the same place and, if so, where that place was. georgia, maybe? armenia? somewhere near the black sea. he sounded as if he came from around salt water.

"excuse me?" tatiana said at last.

the soldier smiled again. "where are you going?"

looking up at him, tatiana got a crick in her neck. she was a waif of a girl, and the soldier towered over her. even in her high heels she barely came up to the base of his throat. another thing she must ask him, if she could get her tongue back from him - the height. the teeth, the accent, and the height, all from the same place, comrade?

they had stopped stupidly in the middle of the deserted street. there wasn't much activity around the bus terminal on a sunday when war had started. instead of hanging around near buses, people were standing in lines buying food. not tatiana, no, she was stopped stupidly in the middle of the street.

"i think i missed my stop," tatiana muttered. "i have to go back."

"where were you going?" he repeated politely, still standing across from her, not moving, not making a move to move. standing completely still, eclipsing the sun.

"where?" she asked rhetorically. her hair was a big mess, wasn't it? tatiana never wore makeup, but she wished she had a little lipstick. something, anything, so she wouldn't feel so plain and silly.

"let's get out of the street," the soldier said. they crossed. "you want to sit?" he pointed to a bench by the bus stop sign. "we can wait for the next bus here." they sat. he sat too close to her.

"you know, it's the oddest thing," tatiana began after a prolonged throat clearing. "my cousin marina lives on polustrovsky prospekt - i was going there-"

"that was several kilometers ago. a dozen bus stops."

"no," tatiana said, flustered. "i must have just missed it."

he made a serious face. "don't worry. we'll get you right back. the bus will come in a few minutes."

glancing at him, she asked, "where were . . . you going?"

"me? i'm with the garrison. i'm on city patrol today." his eyes were twinkling.

oh, perfect, tatiana thought, looking away. he was merely on city patrol, and i was headed practically to murmansk. what an idiot. embarrassed, her face all red, she suddenly felt light-headed. she looked down at her shoes. "except for the ice cream, i haven't eaten all day," she said feebly, her consciousness yielding to unconsciousness in a matter of suspended seconds. the soldier's arm went around her back, and his calm, firm voice said, "no. no, don't faint. stay up."

and she did.

woozy and disoriented, she didn't want to see his tilted head looking at her solicitously. she smelled him, something pleasant and masculine, not alcohol or sweat like most russians. what was it? soap? cologne for men? men in the soviet union did not wear cologne. no, it was just him.

"i'm sorry," tatiana said weakly, attempting to stand up. he helped her. "thank you."

"not at all. are you all right?"

"absolutely. just hungry, i think."

he was still holding her. the perimeter of her upper arm was inside his hand, which was the size of a small country, perhaps poland. trembling slightly, tatiana straightened herself, and he let her go, leaving a warm empty space where his hand had been.

"sitting on the bus, now out in the sun . . ." the soldier said with some concern in his voice. "you'll be all right. come on." he pointed. "there's our bus."

the bus came, driven by the same driver, who looked at them with raised eyebrows and said nothing.

this time they sat together, tatiana near the window, the soldier with his uniformed arm draped over the wooden back of the seat behind her.

looking at him in this proximity was truly impossible. there was just no hiding from his eyes. but it was his eyes that tatiana wanted most to see.

"i don't normally faint," she said, looking out the window. that was a lie. she fainted all the time. all someone had to do was bump a chair against her knee and she was on the floor unconscious. the teachers at school used to send home two or three notes a month about her fainting.

she glanced at him.

smiling irrepressibly, the soldier said, "what's your name anyway?"

"tatiana," she said, noticing the slight stubble on his face, the sharp line of his nose, his black brows, and the small gray scar on his forehead. he was tanned under the stubble. his white teeth were outstanding.

"tatiana," he repeated in his deep voice. "tatiana," he said, slower, gentler. "tania? tanechka?"

"tania," she replied and gave him her hand. before he told her his name, he took it. her small, slender, white hand disappeared in his enormous, warm, dark one. she thought he must have heard her heart through her fingers, through her wrist, through all the veins under her skin.

"i am alexander," he said.

her hand remained outstretched in his.

"tatiana. such a good russian name."

"alexander, too," she said and lowered her eyes.

finally, reluctantly, she pulled her hand away. his large hands were clean, his fingers long and thick, and his nails trimmed. neat nails on a man were another anomaly in tatiana's soviet life.

she looked away onto the street. the window of the bus was dirty. she wondered who washed it and when and how frequently. anything not to think. what she felt though, was almost as if he were asking her not to turn away from him, almost as if his hand were about to come up and turn her face to him. she turned to him, lifted her eyes, and smiled. "want to hear a joke?"

"dying to."

"a soldier is being led to his execution," tatiana began. " 'some bad weather we're having,' he says to his convoy. 'look who's complaining,' they say. 'we have to go back.' "

alexander laughed so instantly and loudly, his merry eyes never leaving her face, that tatiana felt herself - just a little bit - melting within.

"that's funny, tania," he said.

"thank you." she smiled and said quickly, "i have another joke: 'general, what do you think about the upcoming battle?' "

alexander said, "i know this one. the general says, 'god knows it will be lost.' "

tatiana continued, " 'then why should we try?' "

and alexander finished, " 'to find out who is the loser.' "

they both smiled and looked away from each other.

"your straps are untied," she heard him say.

"my what?"

"your straps. at the back of the dress. they've come undone. here, turn your back to me a little more. i'll tie them for you."

she turned her back to him and felt his fingers pulling on the satin ribbons. "how tight do you want them?"

"that's good," she said hoarsely, not breathing. it occurred to her that he must be seeing down to the small of her bare back underneath the straps, and she became suddenly and keenly self-conscious.

when she turned to him, alexander cleared his throat and asked, "are you going to get off at polustrovsky? to see your cousin marina? because it's coming up. or do you want me to take you home?"

"polustrovsky?" tatiana repeated, as if hearing the word for the first time. it took her a moment. "oh, my." placing her hand on her forehead, she said, "oh, no, you won't believe - i can't go home. i'm going to get in so much trouble."

"why?" alexander said. "what can i do to help?"

why did she think he meant it? and moreover, why did she suddenly find herself relieved and strengthened and not afraid of going home?

after she told him about the rubles in her pocket and the failed quest for food, tatiana finished with, "i don't know why my father would delegate this task to me. i'm the least capable of anyone in my family of actually succeeding."

"don't sell yourself short, tatiana," said alexander. "besides, i can help you."

"you can?"

he told her he would take her to one of the officers-only army stores called voentorgs, where she could buy many of the things she needed.

"but i'm not an officer," she pointed out.

"yes, but i am."

"you are?"

"yes," he said. "alexander belov, first lieutenant. impressed?"

"skeptical," she said. alexander laughed. tatiana didn't want him to be old enough to be a first lieutenant. "what's the medal for?" she asked, looking at his chest.

"military valor," he said with an indifferent shrug.

"oh?" her mouth lifted in a timid, admiring smile. "what did you do that was so military and valiant?"

"nothing much. where do you live, tania?"

"near tauride park - on the corner of grechesky and fifth soviet," she instantly replied. "do you know where that is?"

alexander nodded. "i patrol everywhere. you live with your parents?"

"of course. with my parents, my grandparents, my sister, and my twin brother."

"all in one room?" alexander asked, without inflection.

"no, we have two!" tatiana exclaimed happily. "and my grandparents are on a housing list to get another room when one becomes available."

"how long," asked alexander, "have they been on this housing list?"

"since 1924," replied tatiana, and they both laughed.

they were on the bus forever and a second.

"i've never known anyone who was a twin," said alexander as they got off. "are you close?"

"yes, but pasha can be very irritating. he thinks because he is a boy he always has to win."

"you mean he doesn't?"

"not if i can help it," said tatiana, glancing away from his teasing eyes. "do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"no," said alexander. "i was my mother and father's only child." he blinked and then quickly continued, "we've come full circle, haven't we? fortunately, we're not far from the store. do you feel like walking, or do you want to wait for bus 22?"

tatiana watched him.

did he just say, was?

did he just say, i was my mother and father's only child? "we can walk," tatiana let out slowly, staring thoughtfully into his face and not moving. from his high forehead to his square jaw, his facial bones were prominent and clearly visible to her curious eyes. and all were set in what seemed like cement at the moment. as if he were grinding his teeth together. carefully, she asked, "so where are you from, alexander? you have a slight . . . accent."

"i don't, do i?" he asked, looking down at her feet. "are you going to be all right walking in those shoes?"

"yes, i'll be fine," she replied. was he trying to change the subject? her dress strap had fallen off her shoulder. suddenly alexander reached out and with his index finger pulled the strap back up, his fingertip tracing her skin. tatiana turned red. she hated that about herself. she turned red all the time for no reason.

alexander stared at her. his face relaxed into - what was that in his eyes? it looked almost like bedazzlement. "tania-"

"come on, let's walk," tatiana said, mindful of the protracted daylight and the burning embers and his voice. there was something nauseating about these sudden feelings clinging to her like wet clothes.

the sandals were hurting her feet, but she didn't want to let him know it. "is the store far from here?"

"not far," he said. "we will have to stop at the barracks for a minute. i've got to sign out. i'll have to blindfold you the rest of the way. i can't have you knowing where the soldiers' barracks are, can i?"

tatiana was not about to look at alexander to see if he was joking.

"so," she said, trying to sound casual, "here we are, and we haven't talked about the war." she put on her purposeful serious face. "alexander, what do you think of hitler's actions?"

why did he look infinitely amused by her? what had she said that was so amusing? "do you really want to talk about the war?"

"of course," she maintained. "it's a grave matter."

the look of wonder did not leave his eyes. "it's just war," he said. "it was so inevitable. we've been waiting for it. let's go this way."

they walked past mikhailovsky palace or engineer's castle, as it was sometimes called, over the short fontanka canal bridge at the aqueous intersection of the fontanka and moika canals. tatiana loved the slightly arched granite bridge, and sometimes she would climb on top of the low parapets and walk the ledge. not today, of course. she wasn't going to be a child today.

they walked past the western end of letniy sad, the summer garden, and came out onto the grassy parade grounds of marsovo pole, the field of mars. "we need to leave this country to hitler," said alexander, "or we need to stay and fight for mother russia. but if we stay, it's a fight to the death." he pointed. "the barracks are just across the field."

"to the death? really?" tatiana looked up excitedly and slowed down on the grass. she wanted to take off her shoes. "are you going to go to the front?"

"i go where they send me." alexander slowed down, too, then stopped. "tania, why don't you take off your shoes? you'll be more comfortable."

"i'm fine," she said. how did he know her feet were killing her? was it that obvious?

"go on," he prodded gently. "it will be easier for you to walk on the grass."

he was right. breathing a sigh of relief, she bent, unstrapped the sandals, and slipped them off. straightening up and raising her eyes to him, she said, "that is a little better."

alexander was silent. "now you're really tiny," he said at last.

"i'm not tiny," she returned. "you're just outsized." blushing, she lowered her gaze.

"how old are you, tania?"

"older than you think," tatiana said, wanting to sound old and mature. the warm leningrad breeze blew her blonde hair over her face. holding her shoes with one hand, she attempted to sort out her hair with the other. she wished she had a rubber band for her ponytail. standing in front of her, alexander reached out and brushed the hair away. his eyes traveled from her hair to her eyes to her mouth where they stopped.

did she have ice cream all around her lips? yes, that must be it. how awkward. she licked her lips, trying to clean the corners. "what?" she said. "do i have ice cream-"

"how do you know how old i think you are?" he asked. "tell me, how old are you?"

"i'm going to be seventeen soon," she said.

"when?"

"tomorrow."

"you're not even seventeen," alexander echoed.

"seventeen tomorrow!" she repeated indignantly.

"seventeen, right. very grown up." his eyes were dancing.

"how old are you?"

"twenty-two," he said. "twenty-two, just."

"oh," she said, and couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice.

"what? is that very old?" alexander asked, failing to keep the smile off his face.

"ancient," tatiana replied, failing to keep the smile off her face.

slowly they walked across the field of mars, tatiana barefoot and carrying the red sandals in her slightly swinging hands.

once they got to the pavement, she put her sandals back on and they crossed the street, stopping at a nondescript brown stucco four-story building, distinguished by its lack of a front door. a deep, darkened passageway ran inside. "these are the pavlov barracks," alexander said, "where i'm stationed."

"these are the famous pavlov barracks?" tatiana looked up at the grubby building. "surely this can't be it."

"what were you expecting? maybe a snowcapped palace?"

"do i come in?"

"just to the gate. i'm going to turn in my weapon and sign out. you'll wait, all right?"

"i'll wait." after walking through the long archway, they came to a manned iron gate, deep inside the entranceway. a young sentry lifted his hand in salute to alexander. "proceed, lieutenant. who is this with you?"

"tatiana. she'll wait for me here, sergeant petrenko."

"of course she will," the guard said, eyeing tatiana surreptitiously, but not so surreptitiously that she didn't notice. tatiana watched alexander walk beyond the iron gate across a courtyard, salute a tall officer, then stop and chat briefly to a cluster of smoking soldiers, breaking into a laugh and striding off. nothing distinguished alexander from the others, except that he was taller than anyone else and had darker hair and whiter teeth, broader shoulders and a wider stride. nothing but that he was vivid and they were muted.

petrenko asked if she wanted to sit down.

she shook her head. alexander had told her to wait right here, and she wasn't going to move. certainly she wasn't going to be sitting in some other soldier's chair, though she would have liked to sit.

as she stood looking through the garrison gate, waiting for alexander, tatiana felt herself floating on the cloud of fate that laced her afternoon with improbability and desire.

desire for life.

one of her deda's favorite sayings was, "life is so unpredictable. that's what i like least about it. if only life were more like math."

this one day tatiana had to disagree with him.

she would take a day like this over any day in school or in the factory. she decided she would take a day like this over any other day in her life.

taking a short step toward the guard, tatiana asked, "tell me, are civilians allowed inside?"

smiling, petrenko said with a wink, "well, it depends what the sentry gets for it."

"that will be quite enough, sergeant," alexander said, walking briskly past him. "let's go, tania." he didn't have his rifle anymore.

just as they were about to walk through the passageway onto the street, a soldier jumped out at them from a secret door tatiana had not seen. he startled her so much that she actually yelped as if stung. placing his hand on tatiana's back, alexander shook his head. "dimitri, why?"

the soldier laughed noisily. "your faces! that's why."

tatiana composed herself. was she wrong, or did alexander move not just closer to her but closer and to the front, as if to stand not next to her but to shield her? how absurd.

smiling, the soldier said, "so, alex, who is your new friend?"

"dimitri, this is tatiana."

dimitri shook tatiana's hand vigorously, not letting go. graciously, she pulled away.

dimitri was average height by russian standards, short compared to alexander. he had a russian face: broad, slightly washed-out features, as if the colors had all run dry. his nose was wide and turned up, his lips extremely thin. they were two rubber bands loosely strung together. his throat was nicked in several places by his razor. underneath his left eye he had a small black birthmark. dimitri's sidecap did not have an enameled red star like alexander's, nor were his shoulder boards metallic. dimitri's were red, with one thin blue stripe. his uniform tunic bore no medals.

"very nice to meet you," said dimitri. "so where are you two headed?"

alexander told him.

"if you like," said dimitri, "i'll be glad to help carry the purchases back to your house."

"we can manage, dima, thanks," said alexander.

"no, no, it's nothing." dimitri smiled. "it'll be my pleasure." he was looking at tatiana.

"so, tatiana, how did you happen to run into our lieutenant?" asked dimitri, walking alongside her while alexander trailed behind. tatiana turned around and found him staring at her with anxiety. their glances touched and moved apart. alexander caught up and led them down the street. the voentorg store was just around the corner.

"i ran into him on the bus," tatiana replied to dimitri. "he took pity on me and offered his help."

"well, it was certainly lucky for you," dimitri said. "no one likes to help out a damsel in distress as much as our alexander."

"i'm hardly a damsel in distress," tatiana muttered, while alexander prodded her with his hand, directing her inside the store and ending the conversation.

tatiana was amazed at what she found behind a simple glass door with a sign on it that said officers only. first, there was no line. second, the store was stocked full of sacks and bags and smelled of smoked ham and fish, enveloped in the aroma of cigarettes and coffee.

alexander asked her how much money she had, and she told him, thinking the sum would stun him. he merely shrugged and said, "we could spend it all on sugar, but let's be provident, shall we?"

"i don't know what i'm buying for. so how can i be provident?"

"buy," he said, "as if you're never going to see these goods again."

she gave him her money without a second thought.

he bought for her four kilos of sugar, four kilos of white flour, three kilos of oats, five kilos of barley, three kilos of coff-->>

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