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Different: Letter

Annin Brothers

    Irene, my darling,
    Sorry for my long silence. I feel as if for all eternity we haven’t dropped in to see each other, boast of new clothes, and chat about nothing. How I lack this tidbit, all these little nothings of life! Remember the last party at Olga and Andrew? The friends of us, all of you knew that Pete had been given a new appointment and was to leave on some near day, and were so cordial. My darling, how I miss you all.
    Little by little our life here is coming right. Pete’s in the hospital from morning till night. Rarely runs for lunch, he loves homemade food. You know, cooking is my hobby. What else? The apartment, Pete has been given, is good and doesn’t want repair. The previous tenants, the doctor of the regiment and his wife, were neat. Only in the hall their dog stripped off a little bit of the wallpaper, but that was nothing, we put a mirror, and there’s nothing to be seen now. Pete himself arranged the furniture, and the soldiers helped him to carry it in.
    Up to now, I’ve made the acquaintance only of our neighbor, Pauline. She works as a nurse in the hospital. The woman is simple and kind, she gives me advises, especially on shopping. The town is small, but I don’t seem to have settled in yet. Just as well Pauline is at hand. But isn’t she a friend to me? She is about fifty.
    So far everything... I want to say that so far everything is going well. But I’m crying. I am writing and crying... because I am a liar. Because I’m lying. I’m lying, Irene. I’m lying because I am not speaking the truth. Because I’m not writing that I’m sick. I am sick at heart, Irene.
    How I’d like to return the recent past, you, Alex, all of you, without that appointment, without Pete’s departure without me, without my departure without Pete, without that empty carriage, without that fatal compartment.
    You see, Irene, I no longer lie. I’ll have a drink now and tell you everything.
    I am an outcast. Oh my God! I’ll start now, just summon up my courage. Maybe one more tot. You’ll understand me, you are the kind-hearted. No, I’m mistaken. You won’t understand and won’t be kind. No one will understand, and rightly so. Still, I will unburden myself because I’m sick and tired of lying. I’m sick to death of myself. Just do not tell anyone about it.
    I came to Vologda three hours before the departure. At the train station, I bought a cinnamon roll and a carton of milk, ate it with gusto. Good lord! The tears don’t let me write. No, Irene, the Lord will not forgive me.
    I’ve got drunk a little. Let’s go on. It was hot. Time seemed to pass slowly. I was sitting on a bench... Well, okay. I noticed her from afar at the entrance to the public garden – a pretty woman ... Wrong! I’m just hiding my feelings. You and I are pretty. She ... I couldn’t help falling in love with her! That’s all the truth, Irene. And there’s no need in words. Words can only distort feelings. Wrong! You see, Irene, what I have become. I ask you, don’t be silent? Tell me off! Call me a slut. Don’t be silent! After all, reading my letter, you’ve already thought that I was a dirty woman. After all, I’m an outcast!
    Irene, think badly of me. Just let me talk. I really need to tell somebody everything. Whom, if not you?
    I didn’t want anything like that. I never thought about anything like that. You know me quite well. And there, in the public garden nothing happened. Well, I just liked a... We just smiled at each other. Can a woman take a fancy to another woman, a beautiful one? Everyone likes beautiful women. True?
    I felt happy when the train drew out of the station and everything outside the window was swimming slowly before my eyes. My childhood impression: departure is the beginning of something new, something you dream about. The wearisome wait was left in the public garden, and pleasing thoughts of a new place, new life, of the meeting with Pete came to my mind.
    And five minutes later something changed, it became not so cozy, and some sort of dismay crept up on me, maybe because I was alone in the compartment, and the journey was going to be long. I decided to go out into the corridor. I opened the door and was taken aback. Irene, I had got a premonition that something would happen. Her eyes were looking at me: ‘Hello. So, we are fellow travelers?’ The voice was soft, pleasant, as if it touched me gently, as if it touched my feelings. She entered and took a seat; I remained standing in the open door, I don’t know why. I was standing and nervous like a girl. She noticed it and said: ‘Then why are you standing? Sit down, and we’ll get acquainted.’ It sounded somehow in a special way, though the words were ordinary. ‘Helen,’ she added, and I... I didn’t understand and asked her: ‘What?’ It turned out somehow ridiculous: she just called her name, nothing more. You see, Irene, I really was out of my head.
    Then we talked for a long time, drank tea. In my heart, I was glad that until the end of the journey I wouldn’t be alone. Wrong. I was happy to be with her, with Helen. In truth, I was eager to tell her about it, but I didn’t dare to. This is the very feeling I experienced for all those hours – I didn’t dare to. Didn’t dare to say, didn’t dare to be opposed, and didn’t dare to restrain myself. I just experienced some kind of thrill, and I was afraid to destroy something. That’s that.
    The time passed unnoticed. We had a long chat and missed the third fellow traveler, night, silent and treacherous, had crept in. We decided to go to bed, and night just smiled.
    Irene, I’m getting excited now, even my hands are shaking. I don’t want them to shake. I ask them to stop, but they don’t obey. You see, the lines are crooked.
    How did it happen? Don’t know what to say. Quite unabashed, Helen undressed. I mean she stripped herself naked, but didn’t lie down. Sitting opposite me in such an embarrassing appearance, she began... she began to caress her breasts. I felt awkward... about my presence, about looking at her. At the same time, I couldn’t help admiring her beauty. I also felt her gaze on me. It was beyond endurance, and so that something else would come, I told Helen that she was very beautiful. Helen stood up and said: ‘Come on, get up. Take off your dress.’ I obeyed. For some reason, I wanted to obey. ‘Look how beautiful you are!’ She spoke and undressed me. And I obeyed. ‘Your shoulders... your breasts... They’re charming.’ She spoke and touched my body with her hands, and some sort of excitement was roused in me.
    You know, I remember, my feelings remember that at one time when my mother and I (then a teen) went to the baths to wash ourselves, I experienced such excitement, such bodily joy. I remember her tender, loving hands on my body and a peculiar echo in it. When I went to bed, that new breath continued to live in me.
    With Helen, I lost control of myself. Irene, I lost my head. She not only touched me with her hands, but began kissing me, and it was beyond my power to refuse pleasure that gripped me at those moments. I gave up everything: the past, the future, and the consequences. I just lived that minute and couldn’t help living it. Because that minute was new, was absolutely different, different from all the other minutes of my life. I had never enjoyed myself so much before. I want to say that I had never made before such a strong, reckless, shameless carnal love, without a bit of pretense. Irene, I did not have this with Pete... Helen taught me carnal love. With Helen, I felt ... the edge. Now I am a prisoner of this passion, and it can’t be helped. That’s all. You can hate me now.
    In the morning, I awakened from the hubbub on the platform and remembered everything at once, and I became frightened. It was terrible to think that there would be my platform ahead, the meeting with Pete. And what on earth could be done about it? I was hiding under the blanket quite a while from the space behind my back filled with yesterday’s waking dream, from the life, muttering and tramping behind the wall, from the life, bursting into the compartment along with the morning sun, from Helen. When I started thinking about Helen, I couldn’t dislike her. It seems to me now that I was afraid to lose her. When the carriage swam again, I heard her enter and sit down beside me. I felt her hand on my head, rushed to her chest, and burst into tears.
    Irene, I love her. I often visit her. But I love Pete too, I’m so sorry for him. He knows nothing. It’s so painful. How can I live with all this?
    Irene, my darling, thank you for listening to me, I know you have listened. Thanks for all. I say goodbye and apologize.

Liddy

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