Forbidden Dreams

By Leonid Prymak

A young worldly Russian, a violinist, Vladimir Volkonsky, unexpectedly falls in love with an innocent voice student. Her name is Lara. He first sees her on stage from the orchestra where he is rehearsing for a concert. During the months leading into winter, Lara and Vladimir are warmed against the chilly Moscow nights by each other. They are awakened to a passion that previously each had found only in music. While that passion tragically is lost when Vladimir fulfills his childhood dream to leave his homeland, the spirit of her love sustains him in his new life in the United States. Set is Moscow and Richmond, Virginia, the tragic romance of Lara and Vladimir is revealed with sensual and ethereal passages, touching both the heart and the spirit.
Filled with historical references to the last days of the Czar, the lives of musicians and brushes with celebrities, Forbidden Dreams is filled with passion, music and paranormal experiences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 27, 2002
• ISBN: 9781469771199

Leonid Prymak

Leonid Prymak was born in the former Soviet Union. A concert violinist by training, he began writing to explore his personal experiences with the paranormal-experiences beyond scientific explanation. According to his family, his ability to dream about the future was inherited from his mother. One of his inexplicable childhood dreams was that he would live in the United States. That dream cam true: he now resides in Virginia. When he is not playing violin with the Richmond Symphony, Mr. Prymak can be found writing, tending to his various business ventures or sharing the gift of his playing at his book signings. Otherwise he spends time with his two children, whom he believes also have inherited paranormal abilities. His first novel, Forbidden Dreams, not only draws heavily on Mr. Prymak’s paranormal experiences, but also on his life as a symphony musician in Russia and the United States. Although the characters in his love story are loosely based on people he has known, the plot and the characters in it are the fruits of Mr. Prymak’s fertile imagination-or, if not, they are perhaps a premonition of events yet to happen.

Book preview

Forbidden Dreams

All Rights Reserved © 2002 by Leonid Prymak

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

Writers Club Press

an imprint of iUniverse, Inc.

For information address:

iUniverse, Inc.

5220 S. 16th St., Suite 200

Lincoln, NE 68512

www.iuniverse.com

Any resemblance to actual people and events is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction.

ISBN: 0-595-21765-6

ISBN: 978-1-4697-7119-9 (eBook)

Intimate letter from the

Author to his Readers

My dear Readers:

The first edition of my novel Forbidden Dreams became alive at the end of March 2001. It was one of the saddest times in my life. I almost lost my son on December 23, 2000 and my mother was fading away. Her candle stopped burning on April 6, 2001. I had no energy or clear mind to go over the printed galley of my book when I received it. The book cover was as far as I could read. Later I discovered some errors that didn’t add to my happiness. I felt uneasy at seeing my book in that condition in the hands of my readers but it was already out and gaining a warm reception. We all make mistakes and some of them can be forgiven. I hope you’ll forgive me for mine. Later when I was recharged and composed myself, I decided to go back to my novel with a fine brush. The result of my recent brush strokes you’ll find on the pages of the new Forbidden Dreams, which is almost double the size of my original Forbidden Dreams. It is very hard to stop rewriting your own work and say Now I have a perfect novel. But I’ve stopped. I like what I see and it is now the time for me to start fine tuning my next work which is going to be the children’s story Adventures of Siberian Cat Katerina in America. It is a story about a beautiful and intelligent cat that plays Timpani in the Symphony, sings selections from the famous musical Cats and does many other exciting things. I hope my amusing Cat Katerina will bring children’s hearts to the fields of the arts. My lovely daughter Irene as a child read it so much and still thinks it is my best work. I trust her and hope it will be a good children’s book. My best wishes to you and deep thanks to all of you for reading my books.

Respectfully,

Leonid Prymak

Contents

Part I Confessions of the Lost Soul

Part II Jade in the Shade

Part III Window Through Time

About the Author

Part I

Confessions of the Lost Soul

Dedicated to my mother, Rose,

who did not live to see the book,

with love beyond words.

Making his way towards the Carpenter Center for the Performing Arts, Vladimir glanced at the bright neon sign advertising the evening performance. Thoughts raced through his head with a speed well exceeding that of his normal frame of mind. Fans of the Richmond Symphony Orchestra greeted the musicians as they walked to the stage door through the narrow passage between the Blue Point Restaurant and the Carpenter Center. This was the ritual and tradition. The ticket office was jammed with people buying their tickets for the concert. A small crowd of people stood before the main entrance of the concert hall. Friends were grouped with friends, bound to one another by their social circles. Gossip could be heard coming from the area in front of the hall. Tonight, Vladimir had no desire to socialize. He did his best to avoid meeting with his groupies. Usually his time before the concert was filled with brief exchanges of hellos and short conversations with his non-orchestral friends. The musicians had coined the phrase, Vladimir’s Social Club to describe the special group.

This concert was to be Vladimir’s last as a member of the orchestra. A violinist, he was retiring from the orchestra, leaving open the option to return and play concerts after a twelve-month leave of absence. His enterprises had grown and were now requiring more of his time and devotion. There wasn’t enough time to do all the things that he loved to do. His personality, like his time, was divided. One half of him was a strong passionate violinist with the orchestra. The other half contained a great business sense that fueled his thirst for power and success, a quality he inherited from his Grandfather, who was a wealthy, successful businessman in Russia before the Social Revolution.

The dressing room in the lower level of the concert hall where Vladimir parked his violin case in years past acquired the name of the Russian Room. He could not even remember how that had come to pass. Maybe because Vladimir brought to the room a mysterious Russian spirit (dooh), which now lived there and was an extension of Vladimir’s past and present. His retirement from the orchestra was going to be a surprise announcement to the musicians and public. He felt uneasy about this approaching event. He thought of what he was going to say to the orchestra and the audience. He had not prepared or rehearsed any speeches and had decided to rely on his feelings when it came time to make an appearance.

As he opened the door to the dressing room, he saw a few musicians. They were warming up on their instruments, playing hard passages from the music of the concert. The Russian room had recently become more international, since Lin Lin, a beautiful Chinese violinist decided to use it to park her red violin there as well.

Hello, everybody, Vladimir greeted as he entered. Are we ready for Russians this evening? I’m looking forward to playing a full evening of great Russian music.

Hi, Vladimir. How are you? I just love this program. It is going to be so emotional. I hope people in the hall will feel it too, answered Lin Lin with a Chinese accent that was heavy and strong.

Marvelous, my darling. You look so irresistible. I have a very strong desire to bite you gently on your neck. May I? Vladimir accentuated his own Russian accent to make fun of both of them. It was a game he liked to play. He came close to her and made it look as if he were going to carry out his threat.

Gee, you sound just like Count Dracula, she responded. Her face and body became very playful and childish. She was only thirty and could theoretically have been Vladimir’s daughter. He had always enjoyed her personality and thought there was something very special about this beautiful oriental flower, as did a few other single men in the orchestra who had crushes on her.

You never know. Maybe I am a Count Dracula and all these years in America I have been fooling everyone by playing the violin.

Sure, sure, said Lin Lin, laughing.

Her laugh was very contagious. Vladimir recalled a time when he made her laugh and cry and caused the conductor to stop the rehearsal. In the middle of playing, Vladimir was leaning back in his chair when he was checking some changes in notation of the music set on the stand behind him and fell off the stage. He fell professionally, like an acrobat, without one scratch, holding his violin high in his hand, protecting it from any harm like a good mother protecting her child. The entire orchestra stood up from their seats to see a laughing Lin Lin and tried to figure out what had happened. The rehearsal stopped until the waves of laughter calmed and the musicians were able to gain control enough to continue the rehearsal.

Ten minutes! Ten minutes! a voice from the intercom warned, calling the musicians to take their chairs on the concert stage.

OK. Lin Lin. I’ll see you upstairs.

Vladimir took his violin and walked to the stage, passing through a large room filled with musicians and instrument cases. He saw Marion. She was tuning her violin, taking a concert A from the electric tuner. He came to her from behind and pinched her bottom.

Oooo. Who is that? She turned her head to Vladimir.

Don’t you recognize my pinch anymore? Are there some other pinchers?

Vladimir always liked to tease Marion. Her looks reminded him of a Gypsy. She always wore red and black, favored colors of Gypsies.

His long-time friend and pride of the orchestra, a stylish blond violinist, Kathy, was also tuning her violin before walking on the stage. Vladimir came close to her and whispered into her ear.

Meow, Meow. It was their special secret call. Vladimir started calling her Meow and Kitty many years ago and she liked it. She was a cat lover. In her personality and manner, he saw a cat.

Meow, meow, she answered back.

Is it a happy meow? he whispered into her ear again.

Yes, she replied and rolled her eyes.

She looked stunning in her lace black concert dress. Often Vladimir’s friends from the audience would ask him about her. What was she like off the stage in her real life? Her golden hair was flowing from her head down to her soft shoulders. It covered them like a beautiful scarf. She had the posture of a queen and her walk could be compared with that of a professional model. Their souls had always been close and he was grateful that their life paths had crossed.

Vladimir slowly continued his walk to the stage. He took his violin into his hands and stroked a few notes. In the corridor leading to the stage, Vladimir almost stumbled over Joni, a wild redheaded viola player. She was racing for her last beauty touch-ups and said, You mad Russki, I can recognize your violin playing from a mile away because it is filled with such uncontrollable passions and crazy Gypsy soul.

Oh thank you, Joni. You made my evening. Vladimir moved closer to the wall to let her pass, insuring their instruments wouldn’t collide.

I wish I could make your evening, naughty boy, she said with a mischievous look on her face and pinched his bottom.

He smiled and shook his head. Joni could get away with a lot of things the same as Vladimir could. With his eyes he followed her spicy walk for a few seconds. He knew she wanted to show that her hips could play too.

Oh, here we go again. I feel like a follower of President Reagan. Did he invent this phrase or borrow it from someone? Vladimir said to himself as he walked up the stairs. He used it often, himself. Another old Russian proverb Doverai da Proverai (Trust but check), was also one of the favorites of Ronald Reagan. It wasn’t Vladimir’s favorite. Whenever he heard the President say it in public, the instinct of a teacher would rise in him. Often in his mind he was correcting Reagan’s Russian pronunciation whenever he heard it included in his speeches. Any time Vladimir said, Here we go again, he could see Reagan as clearly as if he were next to him.

Vladimir’s thoughts shifted to the drink, Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda. The taste of this drink would send him to the time when he was four years old and had his first taste of a Russian cream soda. The resemblance in the taste of both drinks created a time link between two different periods in his life. He peeked from the stage into the hall and decided to take his seat on the stage. Usually Vladimir would come on the stage early, so that some of his friends could walk to the stage to shake hands and chat.

Vladimir’s eyes were scanning the hall trying to find familiar faces in the crowd. His eyes met with Claudia’s, a woman from his past. She was sitting with her father and his girlfriend in the center of the concert hall in the expensive orchestra seats. He closed his eyes for a second and saw a strange flash go through his head.

He was at the beginning. It was his birth. He saw a bright room with people in white clothes. Then he was taken to the time of his first year in Richmond. Not only was Vladimir in his past visually, but he could also smell the scent of the season. The red and gold fall leaves looked incredibly rich in color. It was the day of Vladimir’s first blind date in America. His date was boring, didn’t look feminine and had an obvious trace of a mustache. She invited Vladimir to come to the house of her friend, Claudia. She explained that her girlfriend had never seen a Russian before and wanted to meet him. From the first sight, Claudia was fascinated with her new find. After Vladimir’s first few words, she said that she found his voice very sexy. The next day she called him and invited him to come to her house alone. As Vladimir was looking at Claudia from the stage, he wanted to know if she was seeing their first moments of intimacy. He was trying to see her body through her dress and wondered if after all this time she still looked as sexy as she looked when he knew her. She always remained in his memory as his first American woman. Claudia not only embraced him in his new land but also introduced him to a new way of lovemaking, a way not known to him in Russia. She was his first teacher in the New World. She introduced Vladimir to the crowd at the Country Club of Virginia.

Could it be a possibility that we still could be together? thought Vladimir. The episode that nearly sent him into shock and broke up their relationship surfaced, as if it had just happened. It was a mean argument between Claudia and her father–an argument that destroyed Claudia and Vladimir’s future.

Claudia’s father accused her of taking her mother’s life by removing the life support system when she was in the hospital. Her father said that the sole reason for her decision was the stated inheritance of over two million dollars from her mother. Claudia claimed she had to make this decision by herself because she couldn’t find her father for two days. She screamed that her father had at least four million dollars of his own money and didn’t need anymore of her mother’s. It was very unpleasant for Vladimir to witness. It presented a side of Claudia that he found repellant; he gradually withdrew from the relationship. It was strange for Vladimir to realize that this moment from his life was brought on by eye contact with Claudia. He was puzzled, but decided not to block the flow of images from his past.

The entire symphony orchestra was seated on the stage and ready to start the concert. The Concertmaster of the orchestra, Jonathan Mott, walked on the stage and started to tune the orchestra for the evening’s performance. In a few moments, the conductor, George Montero, stepped up to the podium and after some brief applause, he began his short speech.

Our dearest friends and supporters of the Richmond Symphony, I want you to know that without you we would not be here tonight. Your support is our lifeline. We can’t stay alive without you. I’d like you to know each of us greatly appreciates your support.

The audience applauded very warmly as he turned his head to the first violin section.

I’d like everyone to know this is the last concert Vladimir Volkonsky will be playing with us and we all will miss him. Not only is he a great violinist, but also a financial contributor to the well being of our orchestra. We thank him for his creativity and sharing his success with his fellow orchestral members.

George motioned to Vladimir, inviting him to join him at the podium. Vladimir walked to the center of the stage and hugged George. Looking at the orchestra, Vladimir spoke in a trembling voice with a noticeable Russian accent.

I love you, all my fellow musicians. He turned to the audience. I love you, devoted music lovers. I will deeply miss you all. But I’ll always be with you in my heart, in this concert hall, giving my love and support to you. These musicians, my friends, taught me how to speak and express myself in English. When I came to the pearl of the South, beautiful Richmond, I’d left my soul in Mother Russia, but brought my heart and eyes to free America. To you, I owe it all.

Vladimir turned to the orchestra. The musicians applauded and raised their instruments above their heads as a sign of their respect. God bless you all. I will always be with you. As Vladimir walked to his seat, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes dry from the tears. George applauded and turned to the audience.

It would be only appropriate to have on tonight’s program all Russian music. Please enjoy the great Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninoff. It can’t be more romantic or morbidly tragic. This is the nature of the Russian soul as Vladimir has told me. I trust him fully. He turned away from the audience and waited for the applause to die down.

In total silence with a move of George’s hands, Tchaikovsky’s music of Romeo and Juliet softly began to fill the hall. Vladimir felt as if the flow of music had thrown him into his past again. With his eyes closed, his hands were playing. He had no need to see the music.

The first notes brought Vladimir a vision of his mother crying with a sick child in her hands. He knew from his parents that he came close to death when he was a few months old. He felt strong hands lift him into the air and saw himself in the hands of an old Gypsy woman. Their eyes met and he heard her strong voice answering his mother.

No, my dear. This child will not die. It’s not his time yet. He is going to live a long and fascinating life. He’ll see the world. I give him to live half a century or more. Follow your dreams little boy and remember whatever happens in your life will have special meaning. There is a reason for everything. With those words, the Gypsy woman gave Vladimir back to his mother.

Give your son one teaspoon of a brandy every six hours for two weeks. Those were the Gypsy’s last words. Vladimir’s mother followed the advice of the Gypsy until the little boy’s blood was boiling and his heart was pumping. She could see the strength of life in him now.

It was a strange evening. Vladimir felt as though he had no control over the events unfolding. The words of the Gypsy, Everything happens for a reason were pulsating in his head as he was playing beautiful music. Everything happens for a reason, whispered Vladimir and surrendered himself to the unknown.

The next scene was a small room. It was late at night. Vladimir was in his bed and heard a knock on the door. He saw his parents rise from their bed. Who is it? asked his father.

KGB, open the door, came from the other side of the door. Vladimir saw men in uniforms. He heard the voice of a heavyset man as he said to his father,

You are accused of treason for being an American spy. Take off your belt and shoelaces. You are coming with us.

At age four, Vladimir did not understand what had happened that night, although he sensed things would not be the same from that moment on. He lost his father. The rest of the night felt very cold. He heard his mother quietly crying into her pillow.

Vladimir felt numb, but his fingers continued to move on the fingerboard of his violin as if they were possessed and had a mind and energy of their own.

Where am I? thought Vladimir. He opened his eyes for a second.

He was on the stage and continued to hear the music of the beautiful love theme from Romeo and Juliet. The spell continued and he saw his childhood dream when he visited America. The first place he landed in America in his real life was New York City. It looked very different from what he saw in his repeated dreams. Years later when he first came to play his audition for the Richmond Symphony Orchestra, he took his first walk around Capitol Square and recognized the place. It was unchanged. Exactly as he had seen it in his dreams.

Why, tonight of all nights, was he getting his answers? Why tonight was he reliving his dreams over again?

Of all the nights, why tonight? he asked himself.

The music of Tchaikovsky brought Vladimir into another time. He was on a different stage, the stage of the conservatory in Moscow.

He was in his last year of music school. It was coming to the end of the first part of the student orchestra rehearsal. Vladimir put down his violin and with the corner of his right eye saw a beautiful young woman in a red dress taking her seat in the concert hall.

Who could it be? he thought. She didn’t look like she was a string player or pianist. He had known most of their faces and her face didn’t remind him of any of them. She is new, he said to himself. He wanted to come to her in the hall but felt uneasy. He went down from the stage and put his violin into the violin case. He picked up the rosin and started to put rosin on his bow while looking at the lady in red. She noticed that Vladimir was looking at her and smiled. Vladimir was torn apart. He wanted to go to her and ask that mysterious beauty who she was.

No, no. I don’t need any complications. I have to escape from Russia and falling for her would be a disaster.

A picture of himself as an older man appeared in his head. A young woman resembling her put her head on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. What could that be? he thought as he felt a tingling sensation in his chest.

The stars from the ceiling of the Carpenter Center still were looking at him. He was playing in the Richmond Symphony Orchestra and was starting to feel like a yo-yo, jumping in time.

Hey, Vladimir. Are you going to lose your sight? He heard the voice of Alexander Gaseliridi, the concertmaster of the conservatory student orchestra and his stand partner.

Who could that be, Alexander? She isn’t from ours, is she?

Yes, I think she’s one of ours. I think she is a singer, Vladimir. She is a voice student.

I’m losing my head, Alexander. I can’t stand it. I just want to go and talk to her and I’m scared to death.

Do you want my help, Vladimir? I can go to her and tell her that you are about to die from your passionate love for her and she is the only one to save you.

Please don’t do that, Alexander. If you say so, she’ll never talk to me for sure.

Whatever, Vladimir. Don’t tell me that I didn’t try to help a friend.

Thanks, Alexander.

You are shaking, Vladimir, like you have seen a spirit of some sort. Are you okay? asked Alexander and looked at the woman in red. She was looking back at them.

I wonder if she heard us, Alexander.

No, Vladimir, I think she is too far away. But she understands that we’re talking about her. She knows that she is incredibly beautiful. I don’t think she would be interested in us, future orchestra musicians. They all dream about the stage of the Bolshoi Theater and big party bosses chasing after them. You can’t touch them. They are too big for us. That’s what they think, Vladimir. Forget it and save yourself the headache. I’ve been there. I know. Take it from a friend.

I’m sure she heard what you said, Alexander. Now she definitely won’t give me a chance.

Good, Vladimir. Let’s go to the bathroom and empty our bladders. We don’t want to make a puddle on the stage. You may need it more than me. Alexander took Vladimir’s shoulder and dragged him out of the hall.

Do you have to be so blunt, Alexander? asked Vladimir on the way to the bathroom.

Hey, if you want troubles, be my guest. Go and talk to her. Break your heart into a million pieces. But don’t tell me later that I didn’t warn you. You should be practicing your violin like crazy, not chasing a skirt.

Thanks for the friendly advice. I will take it into very serious consideration, I promise.

Sure, I know you, Vladimir. You’ll wash her feet and drink that water. You are hopeless. Life will teach you.

Alexander opened the door and Vladimir followed him into the men’s room.

Vladimir rushed back out of the toilet and heard Alexander’s words, Remember what I said, Vladimir. She’ll break your heart and kill you.

Vladimir walked back into the concert hall and saw the woman in red talking to the conductor and humming the aria he knew the orchestra would play to accompany her. Vladimir took his violin and went back to the stage. He came very close to them and heard his heart beat. He sat on his chair and saw the woman in red glance at him.

The stage started to fill with students. Vladimir saw Alexander walking with his violin to the stage, shaking his head and letting him know he was doomed.

The conductor nodded his head to the woman in red to let her know that they had covered most everything he needed to know. The sound of tuning musical instruments prevented Vladimir from hearing their conversation clearly. He opened the music of Saint-Saens’ famous aria from Samson and Delilah. The conductor looked at the orchestra and waited for silence.

Hello everybody. It is my pleasure to introduce to you, Larisa Dobrohotova. She is absolutely amazing. We will all be hearing more of her in the near future.

He tapped the podium with his baton and raised his hands. The music of the introduction took over Vladimir as he waited for the first notes of Larisa’s voice.

My heart at thy dear voice, opens wide like the flower which the morning kisses waken’ but that I may rejoice, that my tears no more shower.

With the first sound of her voice, Vladimir looked at Larisa and felt frozen. He was paralyzed. The conductor noticed his trance and motioned to Vladimir to start playing. Vladimir started to play, but his soul was drowning in the rich voice of Larisa Dobrohotova. Her deep mezzo-soprano was so magical and powerful. It was coming from somewhere inside of her like a big river, and it was hard to imagine that such a small woman was able to produce such a beautiful and strong tone. Her singing was like the singing one could only hear in a dream.

Oh my god, what a talent, like a voice from a dream. She will definitely be singing in the Bolshoi Theater. She will be their shining star, Vladimir thought.

Larisa reached a high note and Vladimir saw her full, firm round breasts rise and jolt as she took another breath. I could die with this woman, making love to her for eternity, thought Vladimir as he was playing. God, how is she going to sing Tchaikovsky’s famous romance, Sred Shumnogo Bala?

Vladimir was looking straight into her eyes not noticing that the other musicians were curiously looking at him. He felt Alexander poking him in the ribs, trying to bring him back to reality. He turned his head to him. Alexander moved his head closer to Vladimir’s and whispered,

You are a dead man, and continued to play saying the same with his eyes.

Vladimir nodded his head yes, confirming Alexander’s words.

When Larisa finished singing, the entire orchestra applauded wildly. Vladimir put his violin on his knees and applauded. Larisa turned to face the orchestra and bowed.

She turned her head toward the violin section of the orchestra and met Vladimir’s stare. He felt an electric shock enter him from her eyes. He was afraid people around him could see the impact Larisa had on him and quickly lowered his head. When he raised his head, Larisa was ready to sing. After a short introduction, her voice filled the hall and Vladimir’s heart.

Sred shumnogo bala

sluchaino v trevoge mirskoi suety tebia ya uvidel,

no taina tvoi pokrivala cherti

(In the middle of a fancy and noisy ball,

By an accident in the midst of the commotion,

I saw you, but mystery covered your face)

Vladimir listened intently to Larisa’s singing and in his mind changed places with her, as if it would have been he who was singing to her. He wondered what was she feeling that very moment and if she could feel all of his cells reaching to her. He had been set on fire. His mind and body didn’t belong to him at that moment. He was under Larisa’s total control. She finished singing and the orchestra applauded again.

This time Vladimir didn’t applaud. He was staring at Larisa. He was studying her face, trying to memorize features of it. She bowed again and this time looked at Vladimir. He saw and elt as if her eyes had something to tell and he wasn’t quite sure if it was meant for him or if he just understood it wrong.

Would you like to go over it again, Larisa, or wait to do it at another rehearsal? the conductor asked.

I feel comfortable with how it went. We can do it again at another rehearsal, she answered and Vladimir heard her voice for the first time.

It was so different from her singing. It was sweet and soft. He would have never known from her speaking that she had such an incredible treasure gently hidden inside her body. God’s gift was asleep until it was time for it to shine.

The conductor gestured that rehearsal was over and walked off the stage. Vladimir got up from his chair and was standing face to face with Larisa. She looked at Vladimir and he felt the strength in him to start a conversation.

Larisa, god was so generous to you. Your voice is a rare gold mine. It was such a joy to hear you sing. I’ll carry the memory of this moment until I die.

Thank you…

Vladimir came to her rescue. Vladimir, he introduced himself.

Thank you, Vladimir. You make me blush. I don’t think I’m all that great. I’ve just started to grow as a singer. It took a lot of hard work. It is not just a gift from god.

I know, Larisa. It is not only god’s gift, but also where would you be without him touching you and giving you this heavenly instrument called a voice? You will be sensational on any stage in the world including the Metropolitan Opera.

It’ll take years before I can reach the Met and it may never happen.

May I walk with you, Larisa, and maybe we can continue our conversation?

I have two hours before my next class.

And I’ll be in heaven if I can be with you those two hours, Larisa.

You can call me Lara. That is how I’m called by my mother.

Lara, like in Doctor Zhivago?

Yes, like in Doctor Zhivago.

Will you wait for me, Lara? I have to put my violin away and then we can go.

Sure, said Lara and followed Vladimir to his violin case.

As they approached the chair in the concert hall where Vladimir’s violin case was laying, they almost bumped right into Alexander.

You have a magnificent voice, Larisa.

This is my friend and my stand partner, a great violinist, Alexander Gaseliridi.

Pleased to meet you Alexander. What kind of a last name is Gaseliridi?

My father is Greek, my mother is Ukrainian and here, I’m in between. I don’t know who I am.

You are a citizen of the world living in the wrong place, muttered Vladimir.

Shhh, Vladimir.

Your tongue, one of these days, will get you in trouble, said Alexander and looked around to check to see if anyone else heard Vladimir’s remark.

I know you’re right, Alexander. I should buy a zipper and sew it to my lips so that after rehearsal you can close it so that I can be saved from my future torturers.

Are you sure, Larisa, you want to go for a walk with a dangerous person like Vladimir?

Yes, I think I can handle it, Alexander. If you are his friend, I think I can be too.

Thanks, Lara. I know I’m not the only person who lives in pain in this stupid country, said Vladimir and closed his violin case.

I’m gone. Good luck to both of you. Just remember what I said to you before, Vladimir.

I will, Alexander. Vladimir assured Alexander. He watched as Alexander left the concert hall. So, Lara, are we ready to go?

Yes, I’m ready, Vladimir.

Tell me, Lara, how long have you been in Moscow?

It’s my first year in conservatory. My aunt lives here. My real home is Mitishi. Do you know where it is?

"Yes, Lara, it is about hour or hour and a half by train from Moscow. I was born in Georgia. Beautiful and always warm Georgia, but I have never lived there. I have lived the last few years in Sverdlovsk, formerly Ekaterininburg, where the Czar and his family were executed. I was transferred here after a few unsuccessful attempts to become a student of Moscow Conservatory and obtain the diploma of the greatest one. The competition is so fierce. So many of us are so good here. It’s not like voice, where you either have it or you don’t.

Practice makes us better. Hours of slavery at practicing the violin can make you sound good whereas hours of singing is not going to give you a better voice. Maybe they just got tired of my trying to be accepted here again and again and, I guess, let me finish my last year here in wonderful Moscow where many great people have lived before. Vladimir looked at Larisa and shook his head. And one of the greatest is right here and I can’t believe that I’m talking to her."

Believe it, Vladimir. I’m real. Do you want to touch me and be sure that I’m real?

God. You mean I can hold your hand to make sure that I’m not dreaming? I have a lot of crazy dreams. I hope this is not one of them, he said and took Lara’s hand into his. As he took her hand, he shivered and a kaleidoscope of very fast scenes ran through his head. He stopped for a second and shook his head.

Is there something wrong with you, Vladimir?

No, Lara. I just felt when I took your hand that our lives will be entangled for a very, very long time, like forever. I almost feel like I’ve known you from somewhere before, but I can’t tell you from where. The second I saw you I felt a shock, a shudder and a pain. It seldom happens to me, Lara. Only at the time when I have a feeling that the current event will change my life.

I too felt strange when you looked at me, Vladimir. At that moment I felt like I was sent to you. You were like a magnet pulling me closer and closer to you in the short time I was near you. I’ve never felt that before. It is so strange and here we are walking and talking together and you are still holding my hand.

Mmm, Lara, I’m holding your hand and I don’t want to ever let it go or have your beautiful voice ever stop talking to me. Vladimir opened the door and they walked out of the Moscow Conservatory of Music building. For a few moments they silently walked together.

Are you hungry, Lara? After all this singing you must be hungry.

I can eat. I love to eat good food, especially spicy food. It just disappears in me as soon as I eat it and I never gain any weight. It’s a great quality for ballerinas and for singers too.

I guess the legendary Bolshoi Theater can consider themselves lucky to have such a perfect body like yours on the stage rather than a blimp. I can eat a lot and as you can see I’m skinny, too. I guess we both have some genes that are related. Maybe that’s why we have been brought to each other.

What do you mean, Vladimir?

I believe that everything that happens in our lives happens for a reason. I don’t know exactly why we’ve met, but I know there is a purpose in it. I feel it in my bones.

You are a little bit strange, Vladimir.

We all are, Lara. We all come into this world with nothing and then we all turn into ashes, but our spirits become free and live forever. You can kill the body but you can never kill the soul. The soul is immortal. When my grandmother died, her soul went loudly out of the window. My mother told me. She was a medical doctor and if anyone else would have told me that, I’d never have believed it. But I believe in her. I owe her my life–my first and my second one. The third one I owe to god or my grandmother. I don’t know exactly. I almost died soon after birth and an old Gypsy woman saved me. She told my mother that I was going to live a fascinating life and not to take the word of her doctor’s colleagues that I was going to die. Now I’m talking to the most beautiful girl in the world! A few minutes ago, my heart almost stopped from seeing you for the first time. I must be lucky that I’m still alive. Maybe I’ll never die, or maybe, you can tell me when my time will come, or maybe we will die together. Ha Larochka.

You’re too much, Vladimir. It’s so overwhelming for me to hear all these things. I’ve never heard things like this before, Vladimir.

Lara! Let’s skip class and go to someplace where we can see everything as on the palm of our hand.

And where would that be, Vladimir?

In Ostankino–on the top of the television tower. We can eat there in the restaurant. The food isn’t great but the view is wonderful. Being there is like being in a dream. From there you can reach so far that you can see everything as if you have magic eyes. Vladimir stopped and looked at Lara.

I never skipped a class before, Vladimir.

There’s always a first time for everything, Lara. Please, do it for me. We’ll never forget this until we die and maybe not even after that.

Lara shook her head. I can’t believe it. I’m skipping my piano lesson.

Piano lesson? I used to skip them all the time. Now I play piano like a cripple. My fingers are blind! They can’t see the difference between the black keys and the white. I’m sure your beautiful fingers have good vision and you are more than able to accompany yourself in any aria or romance. You don’t need any piano lessons. Not now.

Oh no Vladimir, I’m not nearly that good. But I’ll skip the class for you. I wasn’t well prepared for this lesson anyway. I’ll blame it on you. I’ll tell my piano teacher that I was kidnapped and taken against my will by crazy Vladimir to the top of the TV tower.

Great. Just blame it on me. I’m the troublemaker, not you. I can write you a note like a doctor’s excuse. You are the angel, Lara. You are my angel. That is who you are. I’ve met my angel and you are going to protect me from my crazy dreams. Maybe in my dreams, I will stop seeing myself in America. Maybe you can hold me in Russia. As Vladimir said this, he closed his mouth and looked around. They were walking alone on the street.

Your friend Alexander warned me; and here I’m walking and listening to you, Vladimir. You’ll get me in trouble, Vladimir.

Who knows, Lara. Maybe the trouble can’t be avoided. Maybe it’s fate, yours and mine. Maybe we are tied to each other. Don’t be afraid. I’m lucky. One time I was taking a train from Pushkino where I teach, and my tongue was loose. I said things that I shouldn’t have. When I got off the train, a man sitting next to me on the train stopped me and told me that I reminded him so much of his son.

Vladimir looked at Lara.

So, the man stopped you and what next, Vladimir?

"He was a KGB agent. He told me that he should have arrested me for my loud thoughts. Instead, he let me go and begged me never to do it again. He told me that next time the person listening to me may not be so lenient, with a heart like his and I would have to