“Miss Rak,” Andrei said, “I feel I am denying fellow officers a tremendous experience and wish to share this duty with some others—”
“But they particularly asked for you. You do want to see that dam on the Warta?”
“Miss Rak. To hell with the dam on the Warta. I hurt your pride the other night and you have made me eat humble pie. You win, I lose. Since I have been taking those—those—nice ladies around Warsaw my brigade has lost an important soccer match and my home is dying of loneliness. You will have to find someone else to assume this pleasurable duty, because it will take a court-martial to bring me back tomorrow.”
“I think that is terribly un-Polish of you.”
“Will you let me return to my brigade?”
Gabriela smiled. “If you take me home.”
This time when he handed her the key she walked through the door, leaving it open. “Come on up,” she said.
Andrei followed awkwardly into a small but tastefully and lavishly furnished living room. The luxury seemed to add to his discomfort. She threw open the french doors and stepped out on the balcony overlooking the Square of the Three Crosses. Andrei stood near the front door, fiddling with his hat.
“Close the door and come on in. I won’t bite you.”
As he reached the balcony, Gabriela spun around, her eyes ablaze with anger. “You are very right, Lieutenant. I have never suffered such humiliation.”
“You’ve had your revenge.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I wish you wouldn’t make an affair of honor out of this.”
“I have never chased a man in my life, nor have I ever been rejected.”
“My, what an angry little terrier you are.”
“I made it obvious that I found you attractive. I would like to know exactly why you delight in making me feel like some sort of cheap trollop.”
“I told you. I don’t like places like the grand ballroom of the Bristol—or here. I don’t belong here.”
“You must certainly know that with a wink of your eye you could obtain the family fortunes of every eligible spinster in Warsaw.”
“I have no desire to be anything but what I am.”
“And what are you?”
“I am a Jew. I am not inclined to do the things necessary to reach a position I don’t covet in the first place. To be sure, I’m one of those good Jew boys. I can throw a javelin farther and jump a horse higher than almost any man in Poland. So, you see, there’s a gentlemen’s agreement in the Ulanys not to mention publicly my tainted ancestry.”
“Is that any reason to treat me as you did?”
“Miss Rak, I don’t know how advanced your American education was, but in Poland it is the general consensus we use nice tender young Catholic girls like you for sacrificial offerings.”
Gabriela walked back into the living room and braced herself against a lamp table and blew a long, deep breath. “Well, I asked for it. I owe you an apology. At least my pride has been served. I thought you disliked me.”
“Not at all. I like you very much.”
“Underneath that layer of bluster you are a very sensitive man.”
“I’m engaged in serious work. I only serve half time in the army.”
“What kind of work?”
“You wouldn’t be interested.”
“I think I would.”
“I am a Zionist.”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard something about it Redemption of Palestine or something like that.”
“Yes, something like that.”
“Don’t be so touchy. What do you do?”
“I’m an organizer and on the executive board of an organization called the Bathyrans.”
“Bathyrans? What an odd name.”
“It was a group of Jewish warriors sent out by Herod to defend against infiltrators. ... Look, this doesn’t interest you.”
“But it does. And what do your Bathyrans do?”
“We follow certain principles of Zionism, which tells us we must re-establish our ancient homeland in Palestine, and we run an orphanage and have a farm outside Warsaw. On the farm we train youngsters in the rededication to the land. When we are able to raise enough money, we buy a piece of land in Palestine and send off a new group to start a colony.”
“Why on earth would you do that?”
Andrei’s patience snapped. “Because, Miss Rak, the Polish people have not allowed us to own or farm land and—” He stopped short and lowered his voice. “Let’s stop this. You don’t give a damn about Zionism and I feel like a fool here.”
“I am trying to be friendly.”
“Miss Rak, between Jerusalem Boulevard and Stawki Street over three hundred thousand people live in a world you know nothing about. Your high and mighty writers call it the ‘Black Continent.’ It happens to be my world.”
He put on his hat and walked toward the door.
“Lieutenant. All this—why does all this mean that we can’t be friends?”
Andrei walked toward her slowly. “What do you want from me? I am not interested in a romance.”
“Really ...”
“Stop this silly damned game. I am a poor man, but I don’t mind it in the least because I am doing something that makes me happy. I am and never will be anything you consider important. As far as anything in common, we may as well be living on different planets.”
Gabriela’s voice trembled. “I don’t know why I let you get me so angry. You are very presumptuous. Try to be friendly with someone, and immediately they’ve got illusions of grandeur.”
“I know exactly what’s going on in that shrewd little mind of yours and I’ll tell you how presumptuous I am. If you annoy me again I am going to rip every stitch of clothing off your body and I am going to make love to you in exactly the way you know I can.”
She was small, but her slap was mighty.
Andrei lifted her in his arms. “Scream and I’ll blacken both your eyes,” he said.
Gabriela was too terrified to know whether he was bluffing or not. He walked in the bedroom to the big canopied, satin-covered bed.
“On the second thought,” he said, “go out and get a little more flesh on you. You’re too skinny for me to trouble with.” He flung her on the bed and left.
“Did he do that!” Martha Thompson exclaimed.
Gabriela nodded and poured tea and sliced the apple cake.
“So what did you do?”
“Do? Nothing. I was absolutely terrified. You can imagine.”
Martha sipped her tea, nibbled on the cake, and sighed. “Oh dear, why doesn’t something like that ever happen to me?”
Suddenly Gabriela pulled out a handkerchief, turned her face, and began to sniffle. “Why, Gabriela Rak, I’ve never seen you cry.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. I’ve been so jumpy since I’ve met him. All someone has to do is look at me sideways and I start to cry.” And she bawled. “No one has ever been able to get me so angry,” she sobbed unevenly. “He’s conceited and detestable. Oh God, I hate him!”
Martha sat alongside her on the couch and offered a sympathetic shoulder.
“I hate him!”
“Sure you do,” Martha comforted, “sure you do.”
Gabriela pulled away and brought herself under control. “I am behaving like a fool.”
“Welcome to this world of fools. You took a long time joining us, but you’re making up for it all at once. You’ve had this coming to you, Gabriela. You’ve been running the show all your life.”
“He’s a complete opposite of everything I’ve ever known. Like a stranger from a foreign land.”
“You know what your old Aunt Martha always said. The only good ones are either much married or full of complications.”
“Complications! The terrible part of it is that I’m scared to death of being snubbed again. I’ve done just about everything but throw myself at his feet, and that, I’ll never do.”