The Summer Garden. Paullina Simons
next evening Anthony wandered back by himself after only half an hour outside with his father and the colonel. The sun had set and the mosquitoes were out. Tatiana bathed him, and as she was applying Calamine lotion to his bites, she asked, “Ant, what do Daddy and Nick talk about?”
“I don’t know,” Anthony said vaguely. “War. Fighting.”
“What about tonight? Why did you come back so early?”
“Nick keeps asking Dad for something.”
“What does he keep asking Dad for?”
“To kill him.”
A crouching Tatiana staggered backward, nearly falling on the floor. “What?”
“Don’t be upset with Dad. Please.”
She patted him. “Anthony … you’re a good boy.”
Seeing the crashed look on his mother’s face Anthony began to whimper.
She took him in her arms. “Shh. Everything is going to be all right, son.”
“Dad says he doesn’t want to kill him.”
Tatiana quickly dressed the boy for bed. “You wait here, you promise? Don’t go outside in your nightshirt. Stay in your bed and look at your book of boats and fish.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get Daddy.”
“Are you going to … come right back after you get Dad?” he said uncertainly.
“Of course. Anthony, of course. I’ll be right back.”
“Are you going to yell at him?”
“No, son.”
“Mama, please don’t be mad if he killed the colonel.”
“Shh. Look at your book. I’ll be right back.”
Tatiana got her nurse’s bag from the closet. It took her a few minutes to compose herself, but finally she walked determined down the road.
“Uh-oh,” said Nick when he saw her. “I think there’s going to be some hollerin’.”
“There isn’t,” Tatiana said coldly, opening the gate.
“It’s not his fault,” Nick said. “It’s mine. I’ve kept him.”
“My husband is a big boy,” she said. “He knows when enough is enough.” She looked at Alexander accusingly. “But he does forget that his son speaks English and hears every word the adults say.”
Alexander got up. “On that note, good night, Nick.”
“Leave the chair,” said Tatiana. “Go. Ant is by himself.”
“You’re not coming?”
“I’m going to talk to Nick for a minute.” She looked steadily at Alexander. “Go on. I’ll be right along.”
Alexander didn’t move. “What are you doing?” he said quietly.
She could see he wasn’t going to go and she wasn’t going to argue in front of a stranger. Though an argument would’ve been nice. “Nothing. I’m going to talk to Nick.”
“No, Tania. Come.”
“You don’t even know what—”
“I don’t care. Come.”
Ignoring his outstretched hand, she sat down in the chair and turned to the colonel. “I know what you’re talking to my husband about,” Tatiana said. “Stop it.”
Nick shook his head. “You’ve been at war. Don’t you understand anything?”
“Everything,” she said. “You can’t ask this of him. It’s not right.”
“Right?” he cried. “You want to talk about what’s right?”
“I do,” said Tatiana. “I’ve got a few things I’m trying to set right myself. But you went to the front, and you got hurt. That’s the price you paid to keep your wife and daughter from speaking German. When they stop grieving for you, they’ll be better. I know it’s hard now, but it will get better.”
“It’ll never get better. You think I don’t know what I was fighting for? I know. I’m not complaining about it. Not about that. But this isn’t life, not for me, not for my wife. This is just bullshit, pardon my language.” Because he could do nothing else, Nick heaved himself out of his chair onto the grass. Tatiana gasped. Alexander picked him up, put him back into his chair. “All I want is to die,” Nick said, panting. “Can’t you see it?”
“I see it,” she said in a low voice. “But leave my husband alone.”
“No one else will help me!” Nick tried to throw himself on the ground again, but Tatiana kept a firm arm on him.
“He won’t help you either,” she said. “Not with this.”
“Why not? Have you asked him how many of his own men he had shot to spare them agony?” Nick cried. “What, he hasn’t told you? Tell her, Captain. You shot them without thinking twice. Why won’t you do it for me now? Look at me!”
Tatiana stared at a darkly grim Alexander and then at Nick. “I know about my husband at war,” she said, her voice shaking. “But you leave him alone. He needs peace, too.”
“Please, Tania,” Nick whispered, bending his head into her hand. “Look at me. My revels now are ended. Have mercy on me. Just give me the morphine. It’s not violent, I’ll feel no pain. I’ll just drift off. It’s kind. It’s right.”
Tatiana looked questioningly up at Alexander.
“I’m begging you,” said Nick, seeing her vacillation.
Alexander pulled Tatiana up out of the chair. “Stop this, both of you,” he said, in a voice that brooked no argument, not even from the colonel. “You two have lost your minds. Good night.”
Later, in bed, they didn’t speak for a long while. Tatiana was scooped narrowly into him.
“Tania … tell me, were you going to kill Nick so that I wouldn’t spend any more time with him?”
“Don’t be ridi—” she broke off. “The man is dying. The man wants to be dead. Can’t you see that?”
With difficulty came Alexander’s reply. “I see it.”
Oh God.
“Help him, Alexander,” said Tatiana. “Take him to Bangor, to the Army Hospital. I know he doesn’t want to go, but he needs to go. The nurses are trained to take care of people like him. They will put the cigarettes in his mouth, they will read to him. They will care for him. He will live.” That man can’t be around you. You can’t be around him.
Alexander stopped talking. “Should I go to Bangor Hospital, too?” he asked.
“No, darling, no, Shura,” she whispered. “You have your own nurse right here. Round the clock.”
“Tania …”
“Please … shh.” They were whispering desperately, he into her hair, she into the pillow in front of her.
“Tania, would you … do it for me, if I asked? If I was … like him—”
He broke off.
“Faster than you can say Sachsenhausen.”
Click click somewhere, crickets crickets, bats and wings, Anthony snoring in the silence, in the sorrow. There was once so much Tatiana could help Alexander with. Why couldn’t she do it anymore?
Soundlessly she cried, only her shoulders quaking.
The