Hello, Privet! #1: Hello/Привет

Chapter 35

ANTON

Normally, I would not go with them to their museum trips, but to be honest, I do not look forward to seeing the other guys, or even Kolya. What will we do? Drink, watch some stupid movies, watch Kolya flirt with girls in the hotel bar. He was happy when he found out I was single again. He says we can go out to the bars again.

It is something I do not look forward to. Here in the museum at least, with Henry and the devochka, I will have a break. You should see this one, or this one or this one she says, running around like a little kid. Well, she is little.

Now where did she go?

There. Looking at some paintings of squares and circles and lines. You cannot miss her. She is wearing that red and white Arab scarf she says she got in Israel. She is always wearing that thing, and she gets these strange looks from people, especially at the airport, but she doesn't care.

Henry seems to remember I am there with them, so he asks me, "What do you think?"

The Russian art that Henry wanted us to see, Malevich, is modern art. It is—nu, what exactly is it? If I say anything about it and I am wrong, the devochka will not waste any time correcting my mistake and laughing at me.

I shrug, then gesture with both my hands. "Nice."

When Henry walks away to look at the other paintings, the devochka says to me, "Nice?"

I do not know what she wants me to say, but she is looking at me with that little amused smile on her face, like what I have said is very funny because it is so stupid.

She says to me, very patient, "Anton, warm soup is nice. But art isn't 'nice.'" She gestures with both her hands. "It's amazing."

The devochka thinks I'm stupid. Of course she does.

"He's like a really famous Russian painter," she tells me. "He was mainly concerned about art as a spiritual quest, you know. Um, something about the feelings art can evoke rather than the figures in art. He basically founded Suprematism."

What is she talking about? "You know a lot about this art," I say.

She shrugs. "It's kind of a hobby. My Aunt Claudia used to take me and my cousin to museums all the time when we were kids. Did you ever visit the Hermitage?"

"Shto?"

"It's like, a really famous museum in Russia?" she says, now seeming unsure. "St. Petersburg, Russia?"

"No."

"But don't you live there?"

I may be the most stupid person on earth the way she looks at me now. But I do not stay in St. Pete these days. I play tennis. And when I'm in St. Pete, I go to see my friends. We go to a club, we go to parties, we play hockey.  Why would we go to a museum?

"Who has time for museums? I play tennis," I say, to reason with her.

"You've been everywhere around Europe, and let me guess, you never even go to the museums."

She acts like she will be disappointed with my answer. "What for?" I shrug.

"If I were you, I would go every single day."

"Who has time for the museums? I play tennis."

"There's always time, if you really wanted to go."

"So? Maybe I did not really want to go," I say. "Sorry. But not everyone has to like art. Maybe people want to do other things. It's not important."