excerpt
If they had gone into the park then…pshaw. Hundreds of Soviet people walked there, too. They could hardly get up to much trouble by viewing the ten or so edifying statues.
Rather than tramp the Ulyanovsk streets, it was far better to sit here and use her brain to solve her problem, Natasha reflected, and she gave in to the impulse. She removed her battered, sensible shoes and swung her bare feet into the fountain just as the other women were doing. The water oozed between her toes and she sat pondering in this way. This dalliance was refreshing—she almost forgot what she had set out to do. It was gorgeous and green here in the provinces in July. As a Leningrad girl herself, Natasha had never become accustomed to the lack of views in Moscow or the hot city streets. Then, as always, thoughts of her career with Intourist rose again to the surface. The idea came to her in a flash. Maybe, while all the students were occupied, her time would be better served checking out their cabins for seditious literature. She had overheard Hank and Marty talking on deck one day about Lona’s mysterious assignations and the puzzling conversation had stuck with her. Definitely, Lona’s cabin was the place to start. Hastily she shoved her damp, bare feet into her shoes and hurried down the hill toward the riverboat.
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As soon as Jennifer returned to the boat, she went to her cabin and locked the door behind her. She flopped down on her berth and examined what she had been given that day. She held a Canadian passport in the name of Paul Mercier, and it said that he had been born in Montreal on May 26, 1947. That made him nearly 18 months younger than Volodya. She leafed through the pages. At the space for next-of-kin he had written “Yvonne Lavalle,” and for relationship “grandparent,” then that had been scratched out. He had also tucked in his university student card, a library card and the signed cheques.
She also withdrew a single sheet of thin, folded paper. Just a few words but it was thoughtful. “Use this passport to realize your dreams. We’ll be okay. Good luck! P and V.”
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 