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6. The Parus
Olga notices Boris has turned the car off the main road into a quiet driveway heading to an old manse straight out of Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace. “Here is Parus,” he says, stopping in front of the ornate structure.
Before getting out, Boris turns to Olga. “Olenka, sweet! In Khabarovsk, no hotel is modern type. Russia
Olga turns and gives Alexei and Vera firm hand squeezes, then follows Boris.
On facing it, the Parus is seen to be 2-stories high with left and right wings. Outer gate at center of front picket fence opens easily. Following Boris who hefts two of Olga's valises, Olga walks down a flat rock path between lawns between overgrown daisies and dandelions and up 10 wood steps to front porch.
Quite a dump, Olga muses. Boris presses the bell for 3 rings. Almost immediately an about 35-year-old, red-face, roly-poly woman in plain black dress fills the doorway and seeing Boris she smiles with goldfront teeth. She speaks Russian with accent using words from Yiddish, a German dialect eastern European Jews speak among themselves. Very quaint, thinks Olga, who has no problem understanding because her education included German. After introduction, Boris leaves and Ludmilla calls husband Grigori, a hefty blond Ukrainian who is not Jewish but likes Jewesses for wives because he loves the Jewish food – the white, cottage-cheese-filled blintzes, the potatio pancake with apple sauce latkes, the cooked, spicy animal intestine stuffed kishka – and everything that goes with it including Ludmilla's hot nights. A big surprise is Olga's learning that the Parus does not at the moment have electricity. Ludmilla explains that the pre-revolutionary circuits have broken down and the “vonses” (little pricks) at the Party office downtown do not have an electrician to spare but one is expected on the next Trans-Siberian train. So gas lamps are on.
Ludmilla holding a 7-prong candelabra leads Olga up the inside stairs and Grigori follows with the valises. Decor is early 1900s art nouveau style - no straight lines or right angles and everything flowing and curved. They pause at top and Olga's art-expert eye recognizes an authentic British master, Aubrey Beardsley.
Olga turns and gives Alexei and Vera firm hand squeezes, then follows Boris.
On facing it, the Parus is seen to be 2-stories high with left and right wings. Outer gate at center of front picket fence opens easily. Following Boris who hefts two of Olga's valises, Olga walks down a flat rock path between lawns between overgrown daisies and dandelions and up 10 wood steps to front porch.
Quite a dump, Olga muses. Boris presses the bell for 3 rings. Almost immediately an about 35-year-old, red-face, roly-poly woman in plain black dress fills the doorway and seeing Boris she smiles with goldfront teeth. She speaks Russian with accent using words from Yiddish, a German dialect eastern European Jews speak among themselves. Very quaint, thinks Olga, who has no problem understanding because her education included German. After introduction, Boris leaves and Ludmilla calls husband Grigori, a hefty blond Ukrainian who is not Jewish but likes Jewesses for wives because he loves the Jewish food – the white, cottage-cheese-filled blintzes, the potatio pancake with apple sauce latkes, the cooked, spicy animal intestine stuffed kishka – and everything that goes with it including Ludmilla's hot nights. A big surprise is Olga's learning that the Parus does not at the moment have electricity. Ludmilla explains that the pre-revolutionary circuits have broken down and the “vonses” (little pricks) at the Party office downtown do not have an electrician to spare but one is expected on the next Trans-Siberian train. So gas lamps are on.
Ludmilla holding a 7-prong candelabra leads Olga up the inside stairs and Grigori follows with the valises. Decor is early 1900s art nouveau style - no straight lines or right angles and everything flowing and curved. They pause at top and Olga's art-expert eye recognizes an authentic British master, Aubrey Beardsley.
Upstairs is a hall 2 meters wide with red carpet and on walls several small elegantly framed 19th century paintings.
“Come mine dollink,” urges Ludmilla standing at open door, beckoning. “Here ist dine shveet.” Olga enters the elegantly decorated suite with high ceiling. A rectangular red Persian rug of line & curlicue pattern, soft and deep, covers the floor. To her left in far corner is a large canopied Louis Quinze bed from the time of the great Empress Catherine.
Rococo style, Olga notes, from the bed posts' abstract ornamentation, curving-line design and the arabesques on a thick red and white comforter covering the bed. And set about the room, against the walls, are well-upholstered, colorfully topped chairs and, against the wall by the door, a roll-top desk. A table for four with deep red German 1800's tablecloth and Jewish Chanukah candelabra at its center is at center of room.
Rococo style, Olga notes, from the bed posts' abstract ornamentation, curving-line design and the arabesques on a thick red and white comforter covering the bed. And set about the room, against the walls, are well-upholstered, colorfully topped chairs and, against the wall by the door, a roll-top desk. A table for four with deep red German 1800's tablecloth and Jewish Chanukah candelabra at its center is at center of room.
Ludmilla proudly shows Olga the bathroom. All fixtures work by interior plumbing with an external wood-burning steam pump for the hot water. Olga notes the walls of Delft tiles – each tile a painted genre scene of 19th century Dutch boys and girls in wood shoes, of tulips, of ice skating on the canal, of harbor scenes with sailboats. She thinks how much pleasure it will be sitting on the commode with such charming views on all the walls. And she notes a bidet beside the commode. Olga cherishes bidets, rare in Japan.
Then they contemplate the large bathtub with shower. Ludmilla turns on tap
Then they contemplate the large bathtub with shower. Ludmilla turns on tap
and suddenly brown water pours out.
Olga is horrified and Ludmilla notes it. “Oy, dollink! Don’t vorry! Dies is de minerals from Amoor River
When inRome,
When in
“Dollink lady, you gotta be shvach zo ve vill leaf you tzoo take bath und shleep. In tzoo hour I vill brink zupper hier. An' it vat you vant?”
Olga indicates it's what she wants, with a nod.
Olga indicates it's what she wants, with a nod.
Ludmilla and Grigori leave and as door closes Olga takes off clothes and drops onto the bed, sinking into its frilly softness. Ludmilla had left the bath's hot water running and after ten minutes Olga stretches out luxuriating in the pleasantly hot brown bath. "C'est bon!" she exclaims to the walls.
Later getting out of the bath, she dries herself with a big red towel before the body length mirror on the bathroom door.
Later getting out of the bath, she dries herself with a big red towel before the body length mirror on the bathroom door.
7. The Beautiful Dream
Olga, lying on soft mattress in maximal relaxation – face up, arms alongside body, forearms slightly bent at elbows with both hands palms-down -, is in the state of light sleep where dreams occur.
In the beautiful dream she is on a bed in the dark but instead of the Parus it is the bed of her childhood – at Daddy’s dacha. And the dark is because it was a dark night and she, having been put to bed early, is aware, without seeing, that someone is kneeling beside her bed and she knows it is Daddy. She experiences his smell – evening cognac and the eau de cologne he sprinkled on his face to mask the tobacco and coffee of his favorite habits. And she feels the fabric of his smoking jacket, as she had years before – smooth velvet.
Her father's nightly visits were silent except for his exclamations. Mutually they knew what they did was unspeakable.
In the beautiful dream she is on a bed in the dark but instead of the Parus it is the bed of her childhood – at Daddy’s dacha. And the dark is because it was a dark night and she, having been put to bed early, is aware, without seeing, that someone is kneeling beside her bed and she knows it is Daddy. She experiences his smell – evening cognac and the eau de cologne he sprinkled on his face to mask the tobacco and coffee of his favorite habits. And she feels the fabric of his smoking jacket, as she had years before – smooth velvet.
Her father's nightly visits were silent except for his exclamations. Mutually they knew what they did was unspeakable.
In her dream, Daddy is expressing without words how he loves his Olenka, and she is simply aware that lovely love has come her way and as its expression she experiences warm moist pressure at that exquisite point on her body that later she could simulate and stimulate with her moistened finger but never so pleasurably as in the dream because she realizes that Daddy, lifting her covers and child's nightie, is kissing her on that spot. As the pleasure's pulsating peaks rise higher and higher, the scene changes with no awareness of abruptness.
Now Daddy stands by the bed at her head level and she is enclosing his erect part in her mouth and softly sweetly running her tongue over its warm silken soft surface and feeling the hard, pulsating core within.
And then, in the dream, she becomes aware of Daddy’s warm juice filling her mouth and from its force and volume overflowing out her nostrils while he, sinking down to his knees beside her, murmurs, “My little girl, my sweet little child, my Olenka … .”
And then, in the dream, she becomes aware of Daddy’s warm juice filling her mouth and from its force and volume overflowing out her nostrils while he, sinking down to his knees beside her, murmurs, “My little girl, my sweet little child, my Olenka … .”
Olga opens eyes and knows she is having the delicious wake-up that always follows the beautiful dream. Her skin tingles and it feels like tiny bubbles of pleasure, especially at fingertips and about the lips; and feelings of utter delight erupt in the tips of her breasts, and ripple out from her navel in waves and also out from that special spot and down her inner thighs and up her front. She feels she has slept well and knows she is waking wonderfully.
At the time of the events in the dream, Olga, with no playmates and no other adults she could confide in, thought Daddy’s nightly visit to be a most beautiful expression of fatherly love and her own response the height of a daughter's appreciation. Her father had never gone beyond the act. Even later, when she became worldly wise, he and she never spoke of it, and it stopped abruptly while she was still a child.
Stretching arms, Olga inhales in long sighs, kicking off covers and experiencing pleasure in limb muscles and feeling it also in abdomen, chest and head. Her gown is drenched wet as always in waking from the beautiful dream.
Jumping up, pulling off the gown and leaving it on bedpost she skips in nymph nakedness to bathroom and turns on the shower of warm brownAmur River water, thinking, What a sensational name for a river! She gets in, humming Amour, Amour, Amour.
Jumping up, pulling off the gown and leaving it on bedpost she skips in nymph nakedness to bathroom and turns on the shower of warm brown
To read the next, click 4.8 Amur, Mi Amour
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