Hello, Privet! #1: Hello/Привет

Chapter 15

KIRILL

Toronto—most boring place in the world. Hmm...Okay, maybe Cincinnati is the most boring place in the world. You know how you think the lives of tennis players are so great? They travel all over the world, to some nice countries, go to parties—no way. It does not happen in Cincinnati, or in Toronto. Or anywhere, really. For us, it is all hotel, practice, hotel, and practice, and then go somewhere else to practice again. That is basically the life of a tennis player for eleven months in a year, and also me because I must travel with Anton.

Sometimes I am happy, when Anton loses in the first rounds. Then we can go to some bars and get drunk and flirt with girls.

Maybe it is a good time for John to send someone new with us. The devochka. She is strange, this one. She looks very young, like she is sixteen or even younger, and has bright, very clear skin. She is wearing these round wire eyeglasses. Her eyebrows are dark, and I cannot tell if she is wearing makeup. Probably not. Her skin is very pale, like a person who spends most of her time indoors reading. I can tell she's a reader. She is actually reading right now. Her hair is long and dark, and she wears it loose on her shoulders. Today, she is wearing a white dress and brown boots, carrying a basket bag. Girls, you know—they know all about Anton, but not this one. She will not even look at him, or talk to him. Maybe this is why John chose her. She is supposed to be the new PR girl. It is strange too, but she bought coach tickets for all of us. Anton didn't like it, of course. He will not even speak any English to her. So, I translate for him.

"Anton wants to say—ah, why coach?"

Sophie blinks at both of us. "I thought he said something longer. My Russian's kind of rusty."

I think her Russian does not exist, but I don't tell her this. "Yeah? No." I shake my head. Better to spare the girl's feelings. It is only her first day on the job.

"You said he wouldn't change his mind. He wants to leave tonight."

"Yes."

"Well, first class was sold out," she explains.

Maybe she didn't understand that Mr. Bergstrom sometimes lends us one of his planes for tournaments close to New York. I explain this to Anton again, except I also add, "At least now, you avoid the press. You know they're all waiting for you in Teterboro."

Anton shrugs and walks away, muttering to himself.

In the plane, all she does is read.

"Did you work like this before?"

"No."

"Where did you work before?"

"Um, I didn't really work—I mean, I was spending time with my father," she says, "in Israel."

She does not say anything more and so I ask, "Do soldiers still walk around all day?"

"In some places. The borders."

"They check your ID?"

"Yes."

"I went there for a tournament. I still played before, in the juniors."

"Uh-huh."

"In the Olympics, you know, in Athens, Anton stayed next to the houses of the Israel team, but they were guarded by Israel soldiers."

"Cool." And she goes on reading her book.

"Interesting?"

"Hmm?"