el.angeleyes-第63部分
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r own structure； but each with far less than the whole。 Some essential truth was missing； and had been； she realized； for some time； even before she had met Valeri。
Irina knew that she had been given a glimpse of that truth… that heart of things that； when she understood it； would e to mean more to her than anything else…in America。
In Boston she had watched the kids pouring out of the universities。 She had walked the tree…lined Cambridge streets with them； had eaten pizza and Coke alongside them； had bought clothes where they did； had listened to their music； first in snatches from passing cars； then in jukeboxes in the pizzerias； then in the dance clubs late at night。
One evening she had been invited to a party along with everyone else…including the chef…of the local pizzeria。 She had； of course； declined； but moments later thought； Why not？
It was as close to all…out chaos as Irina had ever been。 The noise level was tremendous。 Her glass shook in her hand and her teeth ached from the vibrations。 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
