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Chapter 7 - In Denial of the Truth.There were tears in our eyes when the time came the next morning to say good-bye. I kissed Nina, shook hands with many others, hugged Ivan and Leslie, and then we climbed back into the giant snow cat that returned us to 'Oymyakon International Airport' as the driver called our riverbed landing strip in the middle of nowhere. The same old Antonov-12 was waiting there in the bright sunshine with its engines slowly idling as if the world had stood still for ten days. It had brought more cargo. More wooden boxes with tools, more fuel, more canvass bags, and forty containers of milk. I was beginning to love this old workhorse of the north that came by this place every five days, provided there was a need for it, which there always was. This time it came to take Anton and me back to Yaktusk. From Yaktusk on we were on our own again. We said farewell to the last people of the North who had become familiar to us. The pilots and the crew of the plane wished us a save journey home. Rostislav was nowhere to be seen, which was a relief. Our flight south, the next day, strangely, became one of the most pleasant flights that I can remember. And this wasn't so because of any exceptional service on the plane. Actually, there was no service at all. Below us lay this wonderful country that we had developed a special feeling for, a feeling of respect, supported by memories of wonderful moments and also a great fear. I treasured the spirit of the people we had found there, which matched the immensity of the place and its harshness, its timelessness, and its boundless riches. Huddled together as before, Anton and I shared the window beside us. Looking down, we could see the great white band of the Lena River that snaked its way across the taiga. We started a game. We looked for villages along the riverbank, and tried to name them according to the map in the plane. Some were easily spotted, and others were extremely well concealed beneath the great white carpet that seemed to cover the whole world. But we spotted them nonetheless. There were Pokrovsk, Bestyakh, Sinsk, Kytyl Dyura, Isit, Markha, Uritskoye, Khorintsy, all perfect tongue twisters for an English speaking person. "Didn't I tell you that Nina is a beautiful person?" Anton interrupted our game and grinned, and then embraced me with a kiss following. "Did you ever imagine that your wife would say something like that," she added, "and be joyous that you had a wonderful affair with another woman?" I shook my head and said, "No, never! But it's happening, now." "This would never be possible on any lower level than the universal level, where we touch one another laterally," said Anton. I just shook my head in disbelieve. "With you, the impossible seems to be not only possible, but oh, so naturally, too." "That's exciting, isn't it?" Anton added. "And nothing is faked. I am your wife, and I really feel glad for you that you were able to have that day with Nina; that you were able to experience that union. As a matter of fact, it feels wonderful to be able to say that. I just wonder how many women in the world are able to say such a thing and really mean it," she added. "Not many," I suggested. "Would Sylvia be able to say that?" "Sylvia, definitely. She said something like that in Caracas, didn't she? Heather, possibly. Heather bought us the concert tickets, remember? Steve and Ushi, absolutely. Need I go on, Anton?" "Then they all ought to join us; all of them together. Maybe that should be the criterion," Anton joked and began to smile. "Do you think that will be possible some day?" || - page index - || - chapter index - || - Exit - ||
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