The Bronze Horseman by Paullina Simons Page B

understand, and even if she did, she would not want to. She would
choose
not to understand. She didn’t want to get upset. She had been too happy that Alexander had come to see her unbidden, of his own free will. Yet there was something in his voice—Pasha, Tolmachevo, Germans, these three words were flowing together in one sentence, said by a near-stranger with warm eyes in a cool tone. Had he come all the way to Kirov to alarm her? What for?
    “What can
I
do?” she asked.
    “Talk to your father about getting Pasha out of Tolmachevo. Why did he send him there?” he exclaimed. “To be safe?” Alexander shuddered, and something passed over his face. Unblinking, she watched him intently for more, for less, for an explanation. But there was nothing else. Not even words.
    Tatiana cleared her throat. “There are boys’ camps there. That’s why he sent him.”
    He nodded. “I know. Many, many Leningraders sent their boys there yesterday.” His face was blank.
    “Alexander, the Germans are down in Crimea,” said Tatiana. “Comrade Molotov said so himself. Didn’t you hear his speech?”
    “Yes, they are in Crimea. But we have a border with Europe that’s two thousand kilometers long. Hitler’s army is on every meter of that border, Tania, south from Bulgaria north to Poland.” He paused. She didn’t say anything. “For right now, Leningrad is the safest place for Pasha. Really.”
    Tatiana was skeptical. “Why are you so sure?” She became animated. “Why does the radio keep talking about the Red Army being the strongest army in the world? We have tanks, we have planes, we have artillery, we have guns. The radio is not saying what you’re saying, Alexander.” She spoke those words almost as a rebuke.
    He shook his head. “Tania, Tania, Tania.”
    “What, what, what?” she said, and saw that Alexander, despite his serious face, nearly laughed. That made her nearly laugh herself, despite her own serious face.
    “Tania, Leningrad has lived for so many years with a hostile border with Finland only twenty kilometers to the north that we forgot to arm the south. And that’s where the danger is.”
    “If that’s where the danger is, then how come you’re sending Dimitri up to Finland where, as you suggest, all is quiet?”
    Alexander was silent. “Reconnaissance,” he said at last. Tatiana felt he left something unsaid. “My point is,” he went on, “all of our precautionary defenses are focused in the north. But south and southwest, Leningrad does not have a single division, a single regiment, not one military unit deployed. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
    “No,” she said, a little defiantly.
    “Talk to your father about Pasha,” he repeated.
    They fell silent as they walked side by side through the quiet streets. Subdued was the sunlight, still the leaves, and only Alexander and Tatiana moved languidly through the summer, slowing down at the end of every block, looking at the pavement, looking up to the street signs. Tatiana was thinking, please don’t let this end so soon. What was he thinking?
    “Listen,” Alexander said, “about yesterday… I’m sorry about the mishap. What could I do? Your sister and I… I didn’t know she was your sister. We had met at Sadko—”
    “I know. Of course. You don’t have to explain,” interjected Tatiana. He brought it up. That meant so much.
    “Oh, but I do. I’m sorry if I’ve”—he paused—”upset you.”
    “No, not at all. Everything is fine. She had told me about you. She and you—” Tatiana stopped, wanting to add that she was all right with that, but got stuck on her words. “So what’s Dimitri like? Is he nice? When is he coming back from Karelia?” Did she say that for effect? Tatiana wasn’t sure. She just wanted to change the subject.
    “I don’t know. When his entrenching assignment is finished. In a few days.”
    “Listen, I’m getting tired. Can we catch a tram?”
    “Sure,” Alexander said slowly.