Boomerang of Happiness - 8

Once Alex thought through the details of his plan, he went to his boss and asked for an earlier transfer to Tajikistan, starting August 1, 1990. His boss was genuinely surprised and asked why. In his mind, Tajikistan was the end of the world and no brilliant engineer in his right mind would ask to go there voluntarily before his time. Alex explained that he was almost done with his project here, at the station, and since he was getting married, he would like to start a new life with his new wife at a new place, and closer to his parents. When his boss agreed with Alex’s reasoning and said he would support his request higher up in the chain of command, Alex also wrote an official request for a two-week vacation in mid-July, to spend some time with his parents and prepare for the wedding.

Both his requests were approved in three days, which was an absolute record for the Soviet bureaucracy, based on Alex’s personal experience. He suspected that his boss had something to do with such expedited outcomes. He couldn’t wait to share this news with Anna, but he didn’t say anything to her during lunch because he was not sure how she’d take it and didn’t want their co-workers to witness her spontaneous loud and chatty reaction, positive or negative.

They continued to see each other only during lunches and their evening walks. Anna wouldn’t have minded moving in with Alex, but after they talked it over they decided it would be better if they don’t live together, for the sake of Anna’s parents who expected Anna to live at home until the wedding. Anna told Alex her parents were sure she was still a virgin in a tone that suggested she was not. Alex did not clarify, fairly thinking that Anna’s life before him was none of his concern and that it would be stupid to expect her to be a virgin at almost 26. They were both of new generation that took sex a little more naturally, but their parents were still old-fashioned and believed that a woman’s first sexual experience should be only with her lawfully wedded husband. So Anna and Alex continued to see each other just like before. The only difference now was that their evening walks became longer, they stopped often to exchange long and passionate kisses, and Anna dreamed out loud about how they would be living together, how many kids they would have (they agreed on two), always getting carried away with her imaginative details into rapid chatter.

The day Alex’s transfer was approved, he walked Anna almost all the way home and then stopped and said, “My transfer to Tajikistan will happen a little earlier than planned. I am to start there on the 1st of August. I think we should just go there straight from the wedding. I also got a two-week vacation for the wedding. My parents would like us to come a week or so earlier, so that they could meet you. They will also need help with the preparations…”

“Wait, wait!” Anna just now realized what he was saying, overcoming the initial shock from the word ‘Tajikistan,’ “We are going to Tajikistan right after the wedding?”

“Yes, that was going to be my next post in any case. I am to design new satellite dishes and test them in high mountains. I was supposed to go there in six months, but I requested an earlier transfer so that we could start our new life together at a new place.”

“For how long?”

“Two years, at least. It’s a new project, new technology, a lot needs to be done.”

“Two years?? Why didn’t you tell me anything about this earlier?” Anna asked, and Alex could not tell if she was upset or glad to hear the news.

“Because I wasn’t sure the earlier transfer would be approved. I requested it just three days ago.”

“No, I mean, even earlier, when you first found out that your next post would be in Tajikistan.”

“We were not serious then.”

“Oh, let me get this straight,” Anna looked puzzled. “If you hadn’t run away to Tomsk, and we did not become involved, you would have just left for your next post, without saying anything to me?”

“Most probably yes,” Alex said honestly, and added after a pause, “Of course I wouldn’t have left without saying good-bye, but I wouldn’t have to ask for your advice either.”

“So, this is you asking for my advice? By simply telling me we are to go to Tajikistan right after the wedding?”

“Don’t you want to go?”

“To Tajikistan? Of course not! It’s fun for you, with all the new work and brain challenges and whatever you are going to do there, but what’s in it for me? What will I do there, in high mountains?” Alex could not understand if Anna was serious and mad or just probing him: She was surprisingly calm, using a measured tone while saying all this.

“Well, I thought you just wanted to be with me, and you can probably work as an accountant there, too. Good accountants are needed everywhere.”

“In high mountains? Am I going to count sheep and goats? Are you at least going to live in the capital, what is it there – Dushanbe, if I am not mistaken? Or at some other city?”

“Dushanbe is the capital, yes, not too many cities there. The testing station itself will be in the Pamir mountains, the closest city is a town of Khorog. But I am sure we can work out some arrangement where you could live in the city if you want to and I would come and visit on the weekends.”

“A weekend husband…” Anna’s tone was sour and disappointed. “I am not sure I like this idea. I’m pretty sure my parents won’t like that either.”

“Well, you know, we can always roll back and cancel the wedding… Because this is the only thing I can change at this point.”

“I need to think about all this. Don’t walk with me, I know the way home,” Anna said abruptly, turned around and left.

Alex was puzzled beyond words. He’d thought that if Anna really loved him she would follow him anywhere, even to the highest mountains. Just like Irina did, when she gave up her own career and followed him to Kazakhstan. On the other hand, he could not demand or expect such love and commitment from Anna because he himself did not love her. At least yet. When he thought that she might fall back and decide not to marry him, he had an unpleasant sensation and the feeling of his stomach dropping. He was getting used to the idea of having her by his side everywhere he goes.

Next day, however, Anna came up to him at lunch as if nothing had happened. When they sat down to eat, Alex asked if she had thought about Tajikistan. She smiled at him and said, “Of course I will go with you anywhere. I was just upset that you’d made such an important decision without me.”

“But you should understand, my professional life does not really belong to me. I go wherever the government tells me to. Tajikistan was a decided thing long before we got involved.”

“I understand, but my father could have changed that, had you asked. By the way, he wants to talk with you about all this. Can you come for dinner tomorrow? Mom will cook again, just for you.”

“All right,” Alex said, dreading the conversation already.

However, the dinner went fine. Anna’s mother cooked a big meal again, and Alex enjoyed it just as much as the first time, if not more. He also thought that since Anna’s mother was such a good cook surely Anna would have learned the skill from her. He even started to fantasize about great home-cooked meals that would be waiting for him when he returns home from work after a long day.

Now that they were to become relatives, he showed Anna’s parents all his attention and respect, just like he would with his own parents. And it seemed mutual: Only once during the dinner Anna’s father said, “You know, you could have told me about the transfer to Tajikistan. I would have tried to do something through the Party line for you to stay here as long as you wanted.”

“I am pretty sure my chain of command trumps the Party chain of command,” Alex said smiling, and Anna’s father understood immediately what he meant. Just before he started working in Kazakhstan, Alex signed a paper given to him by a high-ranking KGB officer, literally stating that Alex understands that, given the nature of his work, he will be forbidden to travel anywhere abroad, even the friendly socialist countries, for twenty-five years. He was a non-sojourner (“nevyezdnoy” in Russian) for the rest of his professional and probably private life. Alex belonged to the military and defense secrets he was carrying in his head.

“So, how long are you going to be in Tajikistan?”

“Two years, as I was told, for now. May be longer, may be shorter, depending on how quickly we move forward with the project.”

“And then what? You know, I didn’t raise my daughter to waste her life away somewhere at the outskirts of our great country.”

“I understand,” Alex said, thinking to himself, “Something tells me you’d be happy to get a break from Anna.”

“But I don’t know yet,” Alex continued out loud. “A lot can change in two years.”

Given that this conversation was taking place at the beginning of June 1990, Alex’s words about the change turned out to be prophetic: In a little over a year, after the 1991 anti-Gorbachev August coup, the Soviet Union started to fall apart. In June 1990, however, Alex and Anna started to prepare for the wedding and their subsequent move to Tajikistan.

To Part 9

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