Chapter 4: Proposal
Rudy jumped on the starter—again, first try, the bike jumped to life. Left leg out, he wheeled around the campfire. He paused at the edge of the hill, took a deep breath, and dropped back down the trail, keeping his hand off the brake, letting low gear do the work. The machine gripped the slope, bouncing smoothly, carrying him safely down. When the ground leveled, he revved and shifted up, flagging the country air with a long cloud of bronze dust. He went back the way he came, knowing well enough Suzdal’s streets followed no familiar grid and that getting back to the center was no simple matter of taking any equivalent mix of left and right turns.
Again, houses and gardens, the closer block buildings, the school, the bell tower always looming, the highway, the memorial park. More secure in the new saddle, looking about more freely, Rudy this time caught sight of Ken, Lily, and the others… and yes, Ksenia was still with them, still on the bench. He thought he saw her laughing. He was certain that Ken looked his way, froze, then started to point. But then Rudy spotted a break in the traffic, room to scoot in and hurry down the street back to the mechanics. He made it in front of another RYBY truck—how much fish does Suzdal eat?—thrummed along to the south end of the square, then turned and took the curb on the perpendicular, whump, whump, and stopped right in the middle of the gateway to the plein air fix-it shop.
The Captain was standing—still standing? No, he wouldn’t have stood watch at the gate the whole time. He had cars and hair dryers to fix. He probably just heard his machine coming and would greet her respectfully on his feet.
Rudy switched off the engine and looked at the Captain.
“How was it?” The Captain asked simply, in Russian, his expression open, clean, not hinting at any disapproval of the length of the ride.
“The motorcycle runs well,” Rudy said. He wasn’t sure how to pay the compliment in his struggling Russian, but he tried, “Speaks well of the owner.”
The Captain chewed over the comment for a few seconds, then let a calm smile emerge.
Rudy waited, then said quietly, “How much?”
“How much….” The Captain looked away, toward the street, the square, the bell tower. “Amerikanyets, how much will you use it? You will ride it for… a day? a week? You will have your adventure, and then what? Throw it away?”
Rudy considered an answer, but he had the sense that the Captain was still working toward something. The female mechanic stood close by the Captain, and the other men had all paused their work to watch this transaction. They waited, like Rudy, for the Captain’s next words.
“Amerikanyets, how much of Russia will you buy? What will you use her for? And for how long? Another adventure… and then what? Throw Russia away?”
Rudy understood every word, yet what the Captain was saying was so unexpected that he doubted his translation.
Rudy replied slowly. “I didn’t come to… buy… Russia. I just want to help a friend.” He explained Ksenia’s situation. “With this motorcycle, I can take her home, to Galich. I help her… and I see a bit more of Russia before I go.”
He looked down at the handlebars, the gas tank, the engine between his knees. He dropped the kickstand, let the machine settle at a slant, and dismounted. His bottom tingled, and his legs felt strangely light, as if they might not stay planted before the Captain. But Rudy held his ground and looked the man in the eye. “I would never throw such a machine away. Such quality deserves respect. I will pay you… $300. I can bring you the money tomorrow, during lunch. I use the motorcycle over the weekend. Sunday night, I return it to you, whole and healthy. I go home, you keep the bike and the money. Simple.”
The female mechanic leaned to the Captain’s ear. “He’s serious,” she said softly.
“Yes, I see…” the Captain answered, his eyes not moving from Rudy. “Amerikanyets, I come to work tomorrow at 13:00.” The Captain put out his hand and said the only English word Rudy heard from him, with the vowels separated, two syllables: “De-al?”
Without waiting, Rudy shook the Captain’s hand. “Deal.”
He wondered for a moment if there was anything else they needed to say, but… what? If the Captain backed out, he backed out. There was no way for Rudy to press his case, no case for him to press. They were strangers from opposite sides of the globe, taking each other’s word.
“Spasibo,” Rudy said. “Do zavtra”—Thank you. Until tomorrow.
Rudy stepped back, bowed slightly to the woman at the Captain’s side, acknowledging her small part in affirming his pitch, nodded to the other mechanics, who still stared at him, and left their courtyard.
Ken saw Rudy coming and met him halfway down the block from the park’s main gate. Ken looked more surprised than when Rudy had agreed with Carter’s suggestion after their particularly hard work day last week that they take a creek bath and stripped on the grass. “What was that?”
“Test ride,” Rudy responded, not slowing his pace.”
“Test ride? That’s crazy!”
“Welcome to Russia. Is Ksenia still—“
“Yeah, Ashley’s playing it up, trying…” Ken began to recount the conversation, but Rudy saw Ksenia on the bench, still next to Lily, Ashley close behind. Rudy and Ken turned at the gate, and Rudy went straight to Ksenia.
She turned her pale eyes to his face. Some playfulness had returned. In Russian, she asked, “Did you find my story too sad or too boring?”
“Sad, yes,” Rudy answered in Russian, “boring, no. I found you a bus.”
Ken was still right beside him, eager to hear more about the ride, and now realizing what Rudy meant by test. “Bus? That was no bus,” Ken said in English.
“Don’t be so sure,” Rudy replied. “Ksenia—“ As he turned back to her, he found her eyes locked on him, keenly curious. Lily was listening, too, along with the rest of the puzzled group. They seemed to have a sense that something strange, exceptional was about to happen. Rudy had the awkward sensation that he was proposing marriage in front of an audience. He shook away that feeling, shook away his awareness of everyone else. He didn’t want to have to explain things to both Ksenia and all of his American friends all at once. Let them come later; right now, he needed to make clear to Ksenia that he was serious, and capable, and ready to help.
“Ksenia,” he said in Russian, “you can be home on Saturday. I can take you there.”
Rudy wondered if he wasn’t reading Russian faces as clearly as American faces. Ksenia did not show the same surprise and disbelief that seized Lily and the others who could follow his Russian. She asked, with all seriousness, “You can take me? On the motorcycle Ken saw you riding?”
“Yes. Have you ridden a motorcycle before?”
“My father has one, though it hasn’t run for a couple years. I rode with him when I was little.” She smiled, thinking of then, then furrowed her brow, thinking of now. “Galich is a long ride. You might get lost.”
“Not with you.”
“Are you sure?”
Before Rudy could study Ksenia’s question, Ashley interrupted. “Rudy, what are you talking about? You can’t take off on your own like that. It’s….”
“It’s what?” Ken asked.
“It’s probably illegal!”
Ken and Lily laughed. Tall Igor had told them the other day about how he couldn’t comprehend American seat belt signs, exhorting drivers to buckle up because “It’s the law.” “A Russian would laugh at such a sign,” Tall Igor had said. “Only Americans think the law is such a big deal.”
Some of the Americans didn’t get the joke, but Ksenia did. She smiled. Rudy resisted the impulse to look at Ashley’s reaction—he had developed a mild dislike for the eager young man from Princeton, for his presumed superior knowledge and for his obvious flirting with Ksenia since they’d met the Russian students Monday, but Rudy had bottled that animus up tight, and he didn’t want it to taint his offer to Ksenia.
Ksenia helped by holding Rudy’s gaze, as if she were contending against her own impulses and wanted him to anchor her.
“I won’t get lost,” Rudy said. “I’ll get you home. Will you ride with me?”
She looked at him the way the Captain had, weighing his intentions.
“Yes,” she said.
Rudy wasn’t sure what to say next. Neither was anyone else in their group.
Ken resolved the silence. “Holy shit,” he murmured. His two words snapped the entire group out of dumbfoundery. They all wowed and cheered—Ashley a second after the others, Rudy thought. Their sudden ruckus drew brief attention from Russians around the monument.
Rudy’s cheeks felt hot, and he saw Ksenia’s face redden a little. It’s just a ride, he told himself. Just helping a friend. What we came here to do.