Love Is Never Past Tense... by Janna Yeshanova Page B

incident. They came close to Potemkin’s Stairs. 19 Here Valera had a brainstorm. He picked up Janna and carried her up the stairs. On the first platform, he stopped and shouted:
    “Hey, who wants to go higher? Get her!” He nodded towards Mila. One must be an idiot to walk up the stairs, particularly Potemkin’s Stairs, and particularly with a woman in his arms and on cotton legs, tired out from the whole day. But the intoxicated mind can barely think, and Serge swept up Mila. She was really light, like a ballerina, but this was enough. His wine-weakened muscles behaved horribly. Serge walked a flight with difficulty and, afraid that his heart would jump out of his chest, he lowered Mila down. Valera, in the meantime, ascended another two flights and guffawed victoriously.
    Mila rose on tiptoe and touched Serge’s hot cheek with her lips. “Thank you,” she said, and easily climbed upward. They climbed to the platform where Valera and Janna stood.
    “I knew you would lose,” said Valera. “When you carried Janna over the road, your spine was caved in, and I understood that you are not as strong as you seem …”
    “Valera, when you went to the GDR did you hit your head somewhere?” asked Serge, and he moved further up the stairs.
    “Maybe we will fight!” shouted Valera, but Serge did not stop. There was no rage in him, and there was no desire to fight. “So, the friends have showed up,” he thought. “Some George, not from this world. And this one, looking like someone hit him from around the corner with a big sack. I wonder, are all her friends like this?”
    The Stairs, at last, ended. Valera and Janna passed by, and Janna tried to calm her friend who had behaved like a rooster in a henhouse. Mila caught up with Serge, and they walked together. Serge was silent. Mila was also silent. Mila was lamb-like and quietly walked along the side, as if she was afraid to remind anyone of her presence. Serge did not care for this type of woman, but now she seemed pleasant to him. He discreetly looked at her. She smoothly moved her tiny legs, and occasionally slid her finger against the glass of shop-windows. In this moment, there was so much charm in her that Serge could not bear it; he stepped towards her, put his hands on her shoulders and touched her damp lips. She shuddered with unexpectedness, but when Serge tried to kiss her once again, she moved her palm in front of her mouth and whispered, "It is not necessary." She gave a look in the direction of Valera and noticed the significant distance. Serge wanted to embrace Mila, to pull her around a corner and join hands and quicken their pace without turning back, washing off these adult and complex beings who were somewhere ahead solving world problems.
    On one of streets, the couples separated. Valera kissed Janna on the cheek and in exchange received the same ritual kiss. He did not even look at Serge. Having put his wide palm with short fingers on Mila’s back, he walked away. From behind, it seemed that he carried her, grabbing her by the scruff of the neck. Mila next to him was a thing, a jacket thrown over an arm: when it is needed, he will put it on, but for the moment, he lets it dangle …
    Serge sourly watched them leave, turned away, and sighed deeply. He thought that he had the same role in their relationship with Janna. He turned and point-blank looked at his sputnik. She lowered her eyes.
    “You know, I do not love such characters either. His father is a big shot, so he raised him that way … You understand. He even sent him to the GDR, for an internship.”
    “That’s all right, enough of Valera. However, you were talking so affably with him.”
    “But he is always really nice to me. By the way, he has a lot of opportunities. His daddy paves the way for him.”
    “That means his daddy is nuzhnik . 20 Understood. Well, where shall we go?”
    “For the moment, nowhere. Kiss me!” They kissed, then once again, and again. Valera, and Mila with