Just a Monumental Summer: Girl on the train (21 page)

Another week in heaven passed. Without Vera I felt rudderless, but managed to keep my turmoil to myself. Alin was a steady, loving presence. I tried to avoid Jony.

I was working quietly one day when the radio station door opened, and I saw him - I had completely forgotten the third man in my life – Alexandru. I stood up quickly, guilty. I walked over and kissed him on both cheeks.

“I went to your place. Your roommate told me you never sleep there. You were supposed to meet me at the hotel,” he said, trying to turn my greeting into something more.

I pushed at him, trying to discourage him. “Alexandru, I’m working.”

“Like you give a damn about that.” He was laughing. “I’m even surprised you’re still here.”

“You’re right. How many days are you in town?” I asked, walking outside to put some distance between us as I frantically tried to think of what to do with him. He followed me and we stopped outside the studio doors, sitting on a bench.

“Two days. I will be at the hotel, but we leave in two days for the Danube Delta. The landscape is amazing, but we need mosquito spray.” He assumed we would pick up where we left off, and I would accompany him wherever he needed to go.

I sent him away and told him we’d meet later, using work as an excuse. I went back inside to grab my purse then headed to Dana’s. Whatever focus I had at the studio fled with the appearance of yet another complication in my life. Dana was happy to see me; she gave me a hug and got me a table. She asked me when I’d have time to see the statues that were scattered around the resort community. She was involved in some kind of project to support the local art, and to restore the statues – her interest stemmed from her love of art. Although she was unable to justify studying art at university, she was pursuing her passion where she could. The preservation efforts grew from a concern that the statues would disappear if there was a natural or manmade disaster – a flood, or something more ominous like the unrest spreading around the country.

Girl, I would love to have your problems.
I told myself with envy.She gave me a juice and a kiss on the cheek, then left me alone. I put my head in my hands and rubbed at the throbbing headache that suddenly developed there with the appearance of Alexandru.

I was angry that I’d forgotten about Alexandru. I was angry that I liked him – I felt a sense of obligation because of what he did for my family. He was a good companion and represented security to me in these uneasy times, but I felt nothing for him like I did for Alin – my home, my new steady source of strength. I knew I couldn’t make a compromise – couldn’t add Alexandru back into the equation of my already complicated existence. I stayed at Dana’s for a while and did nothing, trying not to think and nursing my headache. Realizing I was getting nowhere, my thoughts circulating endlessly, I rubbed my forehead and decided to go back to the radio station – I could at least solve one of my problems - I told George T. I quit. He didn’t ask why, but he did smile and gave me a hug when I left.

I went to the hotel to look for Alexandru, still unsure how to disentangle myself from him after all he had done for me. I paced back and forth outside the entrance to the hotel, too agitated to sit. Ten minutes later, Alexandru walked up; I hadn’t resolved anything and fell back to old habits; it was easier to pretend nothing had changed. We went to his hotel room, and we had sex – out of a sense of obligation - it meant nothing to me, even less than before. Afterwards I took a shower, feeling oddly unclean. I walked back into the room and sat at the table rather than rejoining Alexandru in bed. I looked over at him and took a deep breath – I owed it to him to be honest; I couldn’t live another lie. I told him that I was in love, and I wouldn’t be seeing him anymore. No more trips, no more sex; we needed to be finished.

He came over to me at the table and took my hands, trying to convince me I was being foolish. He didn’t seem to take me seriously – we had been involved too long, and he thought he understood me. He reminded me of how we began, and appealed to emotions that I just didn’t have – and didn’t really believe he had either. He claimed that since he met me there was no one else.

“You know, since I met you, you are the only one. You know all the fat pigs around and what they do. You are friends with the girls. I know you girls talk. Have you ever heard that I was with someone else?” he said sorrowfully.

He wasn’t lying. Besides his wife, I was the only one – not conceit, but he was right, he had a reputation and I knew I was his only mistress.

“Mona, you know it’s a jungle out there. I’m your man. I am the one who takes care of you and protects you.” He kissed my hands as he pleaded with me.

No, you don’t! If you would really had taken care of me, you would have not expected sex from me in return.

He continued: “I understand you may think you are in love. But what do you do when it’s over? You’ll be all alone.” I let go of his hands and moved to the window, staring out at the surf as I answered him.

“Alexandru, I need that. I don’t know how it will end, but I need that. I need him. Ah, but which him? I wondered to myself. Maybe it’s the place, the time. This time is different. I need love. Love is good.”

“Since when, Mona?” He looked bewildered, old, and a little lost, his hands folded on the table.

“Since this summer. It may never last, and I am prepared for that. But it is what I need to move forward in my life. I feel silly and young. It simply feels good.” I turned to him and folded my arms, leaning against the wall by the window.

“You will get hurt, you know that. Love never ends well,” Alexandru protested shaking his head.

I knew the longer we talked, more room I would give him to convince me. I didn’t want to go back to my old life. My safe world. I told him this was the last time he’d get to see me. I knew we couldn’t stay friends as well. He didn’t need friends. He had lots. He needed sex. I told him I wouldn’t go with him to the Danube Delta and he should stop calling my parents and my brothers — he didn’t owe them anything. I told him I needed to leave and walked to the door of the hotel room. He stood up and offered to drive me wherever I wanted to go, but I told him that I’d rather walk. He gave me a hug and kissed my cheek. Feeling oddly despondent, I walked out of the hotel and took off my sandals to walk along the sand. Kicking my feet into the surf, I slowly made my way back to the house, seeking solace in the soft and ceaseless sound of the waves. Finding little peace, I turned toward the house and unlocked the door, hoping to have the place to myself. Instead I found Geta in the kitchen eating a snack. I said hi but continued on to the bedroom, telling her I had a headache – no lie, my head had not stopped throbbing since I first encountered Alexandru at the station.

I was scared. And I don’t react well to fear. I was thinking of Alexandru’s words, and I knew he was right. He was my shield. And now I was alone in the “jungle.” I had always had a fallback; now I was in freefall. No one to catch me if I should stumble. And I was sure a fall was yet to come – I couldn’t go on juggling two guys and not get hurt.

Geta knocked at the door and asked me if I was going to the show. I wasn’t in the mood to go; I told her that my headache could be sunstroke, and I needed to rest. She left. From the balcony, I watched her leave; leaning on the rails, my head in my hands, I started to cry. I threw myself in the balcony chair, my head continuing to keep time with my heartbeat.

I finally escaped my headache and circling thoughts of impending disaster by falling asleep in the afternoon heat. When I woke up, it was dark; I looked at my watch and discovered I had slept through dinner – it was ten. I didn’t know what to do with myself; my headache seemed gone, but my thoughts were still the same. I looked around the house, and it was empty. I knew if I left now, I wouldn’t find anyone – the band was finished by this time of night, so the gang could be anywhere – at the restaurant, in one of the discos, or at the Obelisk. But they could also be at Ema’s, and there was no way for me to get there. I had to stay home and wait for Alin. I looked around, and I thought,
this is not my place.
My feeling earlier in the summer that this was my home, my safety – that feeling was gone – I had killed it when I slept with Jony. What I was doing here? Suddenly, I heard a voice. The door slammed open and Alin called my name. My heart stuttered. Maybe I was wrong; maybe my place was still here, with Alin. He asked me to come outside. I fixed my makeup quickly, and I went downstairs. I tried to kiss him, but he hesitated, holding me at arm’s length and examining me in concern.

“Geta told me you had a sunstroke,” he said. “Are you ok? The sun always gets us, sooner or later.”

I told him I was better, and blurted out that I had quit my job. He didn’t seem to be listening. Dropping my arms, he turned and paced a few feet away from me to lean against the side of the house.

I walked over toward him, trying to talk to him.  “Yes.”

“I met your lover. He came to the theater after the show. He waited for me backstage. I don’t know how he got in.”

I sighed. “He knows everyone in there.”

“Of course he does. He’s a parasite. A communist pig.”

“Watch out, Alin. When you use this words, you insult them, you insult the system.” I was worried; we were outside, anyone could hear.

“He is a fucking communist pig. I said it.” Alin raised his voice, shoving off the wall and taking a few steps away from the house. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him down onto a bench on the front porch, trying to keep the conversation quieter. He hissed, wincing, cradling his hand.

“What did he want?” I asked, concerned, wondering what had happened. I looked at his hand – his knuckles were swollen and scraped.

“What do you think? He told me to leave you alone. He started to threaten me, and I punched him in the face.” He was serious, but also oddly proud of himself – he all but beat his chest with pride, all the while cradling his wounded hand.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his manly pride, and he laughed as well.

“Alin! Such a foolish thing to do.”

“What I was supposed to do? We’re men. He threatened me, and I had to punch him.”

“He’s not just a simple guy. He has power. I don’t want you to get in trouble,” I said worried for him.

“I don’t give a shit. Someone needed to give him a lesson. You chose, and he should respect your decision.”

“And you decided to punch him in the face,” I said in disapproval. I slowed down: “He’ll come around, Alin. He needs time. I need to talk with him. It was stupid of him as well to come and see you.”

He considered my words, then asked, “Did you tell him where to find me?”

“No. I didn’t tell him who you are. I told him we’re done because I’m in love.” I said, smiling shyly.

“Are you?” His smile – that smile - was melting my heart again.

“Of course I am. You know that,” I reassured him, leaning in and kissing him.

“Mona, say it again.”

I yelled as loud as I could, head tilted to the sky: “Alin, aka Sunny, I am in love with you! It was love at the first sight.”

I took a breath, and I heard people clapping. “She needs the dick, man!” someone screamed in the distance.

“I am in love with you, Mona, and it was love at the first sight as well.” He kissed me. “Now we need to go to the doctor. I think I broke my hand.”

***
24 August 1989

             
I still can’t quite understand why I am so attracted by Jony even though I have Alin. Why I am weak around him? And how can he read my moods so well? It took one look from him and my mind immediately concocted fantasies of him naked. Is it because he ignored me? I’m not used to being ignored. He came home with a different girl every night, parading them in front of me, proving to me he was quite capable of managing without me. Is that why? I don’t like being ignored. Since childhood I’ve craved attention, typical middle child syndrome. Is the middle child in me craving for love? Could that be why? Is that why I can’t be happy with just one guy. I have to have them all pining for me?

              Middle child syndrome. By that I mean, I felt neglected, as any middle child feels. It is hard to explain how I sensed that. My mother had a preference for my two brothers. Even though she went to great pains to treat us all equally, there were moments when she would let them get away with things. When confronted, she was always had an explanation. “You know your older brother has been in so many accidents. And he suffered so much when we were really poor. I had to leave him alone for hours to go to work, and no one would play with him. He would cry for hours, waiting for me.” The second explanation would apply to the youngest brother. “He is the little one. He doesn’t know anything.”

Indeed, my older brother had a hard life. First, he broke his hand. When they took the splints off, they noticed the bones were not correctly aligned, and they had to break them again. When he was in school, he used to take the bus, and it was always overloaded. Once, the driver closed the door without my brother making it all the way out of the door, and he dragged my brother for kilometers till he reached the next bus station. I remember my mother yelling like a hurt wild animal when she found out.