‘Yes, No, Yes, No,’ constantly flashed on the screen.
Frank hugged me and only then could I say Yes.
The limousine drove past the Excalibur, a gigantic hotel-casino built like a fairy tale castle.
‘Here,’ I pointed. ‘I want to get married here. There is something symbolic, finding your knight in shining armour and getting married in a fairy tale castle.’
After driving past all of Vegas’ attractions for an hour, the driver stopped at the 350-meter-high building The Stratosphere. Frank had booked a table in the rotating restaurant at the top.
The whole of Las Vegas lay at our feet and the rest of the world also.
‘Frank, I don’t know how much it will cost, but we’re going to book this place for our wedding party and show all our friends and family this view.’
Six months later a group of friends and family were singing the Carpenters’ song at 350 meter in the sky, after we had been declared husband and wife at the fairy tale castle. It sounded very off-key, but in any case, we could understand the chorus: ‘I’m on top of the world’. I looked at my diamond ring and smiled contentedly. The Priest’s words still echoed in my head: ‘This ring has no beginning and no end, just like love.’
The next morning my diamond ring had disappeared. There was no one lying next to me in bed. I rubbed my eyes, because I could not believe that this had all been a dream. I was convinced that I had married my knight in shining armour here in Las Vegas. Then why was I not wearing a ring and why was I lying in an empty hotel bed? Had I been so brainwashed during the many years of communist dictatorship that I could only believe in dreams? Dreams only last so long, just ten minutes or thirty minutes, maximum. It was strange that I could have travelled thousands of kilometres’ distance in such a short time. It was all so confusing that I was afraid to look in my suitcase for fear there was no wedding dress.
A little while later I had gathered enough courage to carefully open the suitcase. My mother’s wedding dress was in in. The wedding dress I wanted to wear at my own wedding after some modernization, because this unique example radiated something symbolic: passing on love from generation to generation.
I heard the door of the hotel room open.
‘Good morning, beautiful. I woke up early and I had the jeweller resize your ring.’
I looked at the sparkling diamond ring in Frank’s hand. My emotions were still that confused that I didn’t know what to think. Yet I felt very lucky. My thoughts had not been manipulated, my thoughts were finally free! Free enough to not have to think for the first time ever.
Note from the author
This is the end of the beginning of the fairy tale that reads like a true story, and also of this true story that reads like a fairy tale. This book is based on real events and facts. I have deliberately chosen to consequently use the term communism instead of socialism, because the West saw Russia and her allies as communist countries, even though in practice they were not that far advanced. The names of characters have been changed to protect their privacy. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank my father for his wisdom, even if I have not been able to fully exploit it, because he swapped the earthly for the eternal so soon and also my mother who tried to protect me like an angel from unsuitable lovers, fake friends and all possible disappointments.
I thank all my Bulgarian friends who were prepared to share their stories of their youth with me. Although they also had to gather the shards of their broken illusions after the fall of communism and glue them into new ideals, none of us regretted growing up in such a strange society.
I thank all the writers who have enriched me with beauty and inspiration. Writing a book is like exposing yourself, but Oscar Wilde places the risk of lack of understanding in the shoes of the reader: ‘All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors.’
Finally, I thank my friend and husband Frank. Without his support this book would never have been written, for the simple reason that he didn’t always switch the lights off when I got inspiration in the middle of the night to write another few pages.
Many thanks for purchasing my book. Did you enjoy it? If so, please let other readers know and leave a review on Amazon.com. Much appreciated!
Copyright
Maria Genova: Communism, Sex and Lies – novel. First published in the Netherlands in 2007.
Key words: Communism, Communist manifesto, Eastern Europe history, Russian historical fiction, Sexual awakening, Coming of age.
© 2017 Maria Genova, Emaiclass="underline" genova@casema.nl and Morton International Publishing
Translation and Publishing: Caroline Morton-Gallagher, Morton International Publishing. Emaiclass="underline" morton@online.nl
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by print, photo print, microfilm or any other means, without written permission from the author.