el.angeleyes-第70节

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。　It　was　wonderful；　as　liberating；　in　its　way；　as　sitting　in　the　darkened　movie　theater；　watching　Elizabeth　Taylor　being　Martha　in　Who's　Afraid　of　Virginia　Woolf？　But　different。　So　different。
　Everything　was　spontaneous；　from　the　laughter　to　the　ings　and　goings　of　people；　from　the　informality　to　the　wide　range　of　conversation　topics：　Kierkegaard　on　the　meaning　of　death；　Woody　Allen　on　the　meaning　of　life；　Tom　Cruise　on　the　meaning　of　sex。　It　was　dizzying；　wild；　captivating。　Irina　had　not　wanted　to　leave。
　There　was　a　young　man　there；　with　hair　the　color　of　a　bear's　pelt。　He　wore　it　short　on　the　sides；　long　and　flowing　on　top；　so　that　he　was　continually　brushing　it　back　from　his　forehead。　He　had　watched　her　drifting　slowly　from　group　to　group　in　the　party　with　a　shyness　that　made　Irina's　heart　ache。
　At　one　point；　when　she　was　standing　on　the　edge　of　the　crowd　and　he　was　dancing　with　a　thin；　sandy…haired　woman；　he　had　accidentally　brushed　against　her；　spilling　the　contents　of　the　glass　over　her。
　〃Oh；　I'm　sorry；〃　he　said。　〃I'm　so　sorry。〃
　〃It's　all　right；〃　Irina　said。　〃It's　only　club　soda。〃　And　then；　because　he　obviously　could　not　take　his　eyes　off　her；　〃Shouldn't　you　get　back　to　your　dance　partner？〃
　She　ran　into　him　again　in　the　kitchen。　It　was　late；　and　the　crowd　had　begun　to　thin　out。　Irina　was　putting　a　slice　of　cold　pizza　in　the　microwave；　and　he　had　stopped　her。
　〃Don't　you　know　anything？〃　he　said。　〃You　can't　use　foil　in　there；　it'll　pop　all　over　the　place。〃　He　put　the　pizza　on　a　paper　plate；　shoved　it　in；　turned　on　the　microwave。
　They　shared　the　slice。
　〃You're　the　Russian；　aren't　you？〃　the　young　man　said。
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Your　English　is　excellent。　I　wish　my　Russian　was　as　good。''
　〃How　good　is　it？〃　Irina　asked　him　in　Russian。
　〃Only　so…so；　I'm　afraid；〃　he　said　in　the　same　language。
　〃You　need　to　speak　more；　that's　all；〃　Irina　said；　switching　back　to　English。　She　found　that　she　wasn't　in　the　least　nostalgic　for　anything　Russian。
　All　of　a　sudden　the　young　man　leaned　forward；　kissed　her　on　the　lips。　〃I've　been　wanting　to　do　that　all　night；〃　he　said　in　a　rush。
　〃Did　you　think　I'd　be　offended？〃
　''I　had　no　way　of　knowing。''
　And　in　that　one　sentence　he　had　summed　up　for　her　the　disquiet　she　had　been　feeling　there。　Why　was　she　so　fortable；　so　free　in　Boston？　Why　did　she　not　feel　homesick　for　Moscow？　/　had　no　way　of　knowing。　Tacked　away　in　Russia；　she　had　had　no　way　of　knowing　what　America　would　be　like；　let　alone　Boston；　or　this　wondrous　Cambridge　area；　delightfully　old…fashioned；　yet　at　the　same　time；　so　excitingly　avant…garde。　A　world　within　a　world　within　a　world。　All　scrupulously　hidden　from　her　by　her　government。
　Oh；　how　she　had　wept　that　night　when　at　last　she　had　crawled　into　her　bed；　because　she　would　never　feel　the　same　about　her　home　anymore。　Doubts　so　fundamental　that　they　questioned　her　entire　way　of　life　had　crept　into　her　consciousness。　And；　once　there；　they　could　never　be　dispelled。
　The　very　worst　of　it　was　that　as　soon　as　she　got　back　to　Moscow；　it　all　seemed　like　a　dream：　the　silk　Charmeuse　teddy　she　had　swooned　over；　the　magnificent　Martha　brought　to　life　by　Elizabeth　Taylor；　the　endless　pizza　and　Cokes；　the　equally　endless　curious　minds；　the　shocking　music　and　even　more　shocking　clothes；　the　young　man　at　the　Cambridge　party　who　had　loved　her　from　afar；　who　had　dared　to　kiss　her；　who　had　said　to　her；　/　had　no　way　of　knowing；　all　were　swept　away　on　the　gray　tide　of　minutiae　that　was　her　daily　life。
　A　dream；　that's　what　it　had　bee。　She　would　dream…when　she　was　released　from　the　recurring　prison　nightmare…of　Cambridge；　and　would　awake　weeping；　as　if　it　were　as　lost　as　Camelot　or　as　mythic　as　Avalon。
　So　painful　had　this　sense　of　loss　bee　that　even　Irina's　feelings　for　Mars　could　not　quench　them；　sex　with　Valeri　was　an　inadequate　opiate；　and；　more　and　more　often；　she　would　seek　the　only　solace　she　had　ever　known；　kneeling　before　the　altar　at　the　Church　of　the　Archangel　Gabriel。　There　she　prayed　for　guidance；　and　for　some　measure　of　peace　which　she　now　suspected　was　beyond　her。
　And　then；　one　evening　in　the　midst　of　a　sleety　rain　that　had　driven　them　off　the　slick　Moscow　streets；　the　miraculous　occurred。　Natasha　said；　〃Do　you　know　that　my　greatest　moment　on　the　stage　came　not　in　Moscow；　not　in　Russia　at　all；　in　fact；　but　in　the　United　States。　I　was　asked　to　perform　at　Lincoln　Center　in　New　York　City。　Do　you　know　it？〃
　〃I've　never　been　to　New　York　City；''　Irina　said　with　her　heart　in　her　mouth。　She　knew　this　was　the　time　to　mention　Boston；　but　she　could　not。
　They　were　in　Praga；　a　restaurant　on　Arbat　Square。　It　was　a　touristy　place；　so　the　food　was　good；　and　because　the　owners　knew　Natasha；　the　service　was；　too。　Irina　stared　out　the　windows　at　the　people　hunched　over；　hurrying　along　the　rainswept　street。　She　found；　to　her　utter　amazement；　that　she　felt　no　connection　with　those　people。　It　was　as　if　she　were　now　separated　from　them　all　the　time　by　this　plate…glass　window；　as　if　she　were　here；　safe　and　dry；　while　they　were　there；　cold　and　wet。
　But　if　they　were　here　in　Moscow；　she　asked　herself；　then　where　was　she？　hi　some　kind　of　terrible　limbo　or　purgatory；　serving　out　her　sentence　in　the　prison　that　barred　even　the　moon。
　〃Katya？〃　Natasha　put　a　hand　over　hers。　〃What's　the　matter？　You　look　as　white　as　winter。〃
　Irina's　depression　was　so　intense　that　she　pletely　forgot　who　Katya　was　and；　for　an　interminable　moment；　stared　blankly　into　Natasha's　concerned　face。
　〃Katya？〃
　〃Yes；　yes；〃　Irina　said；　breathing　again；　in　out；　in　out；　everything　quite　normal　now；　and　yet　not　normal　at　all。　〃I'm　fine。　I　。　。　。　don't　know　what　came　over　me。　For　a　moment　I　was　so　dizzy。　It's　passed　now。〃
　〃Nevertheless；〃　Natasha　said　firmly；　〃it's　a　glass　of　starka　for　you；　my　girl。　And；　for　God's　sake；　eat。　You　haven't　touched　a　thing。〃
　Later；　after　the　plates　were　cleared　and　the　strong；　dark　tea　had　been　served；　Natasha　said；　〃America　is　such　an　unusual　place。　How　I　wish　you　could　see　it！　So　filled　with　delicious　sights；　sounds；　tastes。　Quite　naughty；　really。〃　She　chuckled。　〃There　was；　for　instance；　the　divinely　decadent　French　bustier　I　wore　the　night　that　Texas　financier　and　I…〃　She　stopped　abruptly；　waved　a　delicate　hand。　〃But；　no；　I　think　I've　already　shocked　you　quite　enough　for　one　evening。〃
　〃I　don't　think　I'm　easily　shocked。〃
　Natasha　laughed。　〃Oh；　but　of　course　you　are！　You're　such　a　naif；　Katya。　After　all；　education　in　this　country　is　so　appallingly　primitive。　In　some　ways；　I'm　afraid　we're　still　not　much　better　than　all　those　third…world　countries　we're　always　professing　to　help。　It　often　seems　to　me　that　we're　the　ones　who　need　assistance。〃
　Natasha　sipped　her　tea。　〃Let　me　tell　you　something；　darting。　When　I　was　in　New　York　I　met　Edward　Albee。　He　had　e　to　watch　me　perform。　Can　you　imagine？　My　God；　what　an　opportunity！　And　do　you　know　what？　I　made　the　most　of　it。　I'd　be　damned　if　I　was　going　to　talk　with　one　of　the　most　brilliant　theater　minds　of　this　century　while　my　flock　of　KGB　babysitters　was　hovering　all　around；　eavesdropping。
　〃I　took　Albee；　and　we　ducked　away；　lost　them　all。　What　I　learned　from　him　I　could　never　have　gotten　from　thirty　years　with　my　Russian　acting　teacher。　He　spoke　in　truths。　His　language　was　a　kind　of　music　that　I　seemed　to　absorb　through　the　pores　of　my　skin。　I　felt　as　if　I　had　never　before　been　alive；　had　never　known　what　it　was　to　don　a　persona　and　walk　out　on　the　stage。　He　showed　me　how　to　speak　not　only　his　words；　but　all　words。〃
　Natasha　poured　herself　more　tea　and；　as　she　stirred　in　the　sugar；　her　eyes　shone　with　an　inner　light。　〃We　talked　all　night。　What　a　risk；　darling；　but　what　else　could　I　do？　It　was　hell　to　pay；　I'll　tell　you；　when　I　got　back　to　the　hotel。　But　who　cares？　I　have　a　guardian　angel　who　watches　over　me。〃　Irina　wondered　whether　that　guardian　angel　was　Valeri。
　〃My　whole　point；''　Natasha　continued；　''is　your　rage。　It　was　my　acting　teacher's　point　of　view　that　rage　is　frustration　stifled。　The　older　I　get；　the　more　I　am　inclined　to　agree　with　him。''　She　took　Irina's　hand。　〃Your　rage　is　such　that；　sooner　or　later；　you　will　be　unable　to　control　it。　Then　it　will　boil　over　and；　well；　who　knows　what　the　consequences　might　be？
　〃That　night　in　New　York　City；　Edward　Albee　showed　me　what　I　was　meant　to　be。　And　that　knowledge　has　made　me　a　different　person。　He　opened　up　the　world　to　me…not　only　his　world；　but　mine。
　〃Oh；　darling；　don't　you　see　what　I'm　saying？〃　She　searched　Irina's　eyes。　〃One　day　you　will　meet　your　Albee；　and　he　will　change　your　life　utterly。　The　answer　for　you　is　to　seize　your　moment　as　I　did　mine。　You　must　say　to　yourself；　'Damn　the　risks！'　and　plow　straight　ahead。　Believe　me；　there　is　a　time　to　consider　the　consequences；　and　a　time　to　ignore　them。　Do　you　understand　me；　Katya？〃
　〃You　have　no　idea　how　frustrating　it　is；〃　Mars　said　to　Irina　two　nights　later；　''knowing　that　somewhere　out　there　the　leaders　of　White　Star　are　going　about　their　daily　lives…and　I　can't　get　to　them。〃　He　turned　to　her。　〃Have　you　gotten　any　leads？〃
　〃Not　yet；〃　Irina　said。
　They　were　in　Mars's　apartment　on　Vosstaniya　Square。　It　was　very　late　at　night。　The　streets　were　deserted。　Every　so　often　a　military　truck　or　troop　carrier　would