Yana

52. Bus 51

We stood at the bus station waiting for the bus. I looked into her eyes and did not know what to say. Finally I said: "Thank you for everything, your kindness and hospitality."

She laughed and drew me into her arms. "Anything for Nonna, child! Anything at all! I am so glad to finally meet her granddaughter. And you, young man," and she pulled him into her embrace.

"Look after this one," young man. "Be her strength when hers fails." He nodded and thanked her.

The bus arrived and we each gave her a final farewell kiss. Then we got on the bus and found our seat near the back. We put our belongings on the overhead rack and sat down.

"She must have been one heck of a teacher!" Caleb said. 'Did she say she taught English or art?"

"English," I said.

"How come you know so much about art?" He asked.

"I don't,' I smiled. "I just see what's there."

"You have a good eye then," he said. "I couldn't make much sense of it."

The bus glided into motion and we waved to Fayna as we went on our way.

"Can you believe she wanted to be a nun?" He asked.

"Easily," I said. "She never married, probably never had a boyfriend in high school, and she's never had any children. She would have made a fine nun."

"What would make someone want to be a nun?" He asked.

"Total immersion in contemplation," I said. "Freedom from worldly distractions."

He laughed and kissed my cheek. "I like those distractions," he said.

"Yes, but they take away your mind," I smiled. "They interfere with your focus."

"You sound to me like someone who could be a nun," he teased.

"Perhaps I could," I said.

"But now you've found me!" He said. "You can't be a nun and be with me."

"No," I smiled, "I can't. I guess I'm stuck with you."

"I promise to make it a good stuck," he said.

"I know you will," I smiled.

We left St Petersburg and entered hill country. On both sides of the road forest began appearing and it grew thicker as we went on.

"Is it true you can read minds?" He asked.

"I can draw thoughts, yes," I said.

"What am I thinking now?" He asked.

"That's naughty!" I smiled. "Is that how all 16 year old boys think? I could picture you in your bathing suit but I don't."

"You really can?" He said sheepishly. "How unfortunate."

"No," I said. "It's like a window. I can look into it, but I usually don't. People's thoughts are private. I don't even want to know them."

"Can you read the minds of those people on the bus?" He asked.

"I can't make out one mind over the others," I said. "It's like listening to 20 radios at once. All you've got us a blur of voices."

"Then how could you read mine?"

"First, you sit next to me. Second, I have a personal connection with you."

"Where is Valentin?"

"He's on a plane. He'll arrive in St Petersburg tomorrow."

"How do you know this?" He asked.

"I travel," I said. "I go to him. We have a connection because of our power. He draws me and I draw him."

"If he draws your power, will that kill you?"

"Yes," I said, "he will then also draw my life."

"Would he kill me?"

"If you came between us he would kill you, yes."

"I'm not afraid to die for you," he said. "It couldn't be for a nicer person."

"Really?" I said.

"I thought about it last night," he said. "I couldn't sleep so I listened to your breathing, and I thought if anyone dares to stop that I would fight them to the death."

"I would do the same for you," I said. "That's what love is."

The bus stopped at a small bus station. A single bus was waiting there. I said to the driver in fluent Russian: "We need to get to Nimengo Station. Which bus do we take?"

"Not that one," he said, but the next one." He consulted his watch. "Thirty minutes," he said. "Why do you want to go there?"

"We want to visit the monastery," I said.

"Few people go there," he said. "It's very remote. Most people don't want to hike about 30 miles off road."

"I have an aunt there," I said. "I have never met her and I want to meet her."

He nodded. "Good luck," he smiled.

We got off the bus and sat on a bench at the station, our baggage by our feet.

"So we do need a tent after all," he laughed.

"Yes," I said. "Are you sure you're not a witch yourself?"

"Why do we depict witches with broomsticks?" He asked.

"Because they go places," I said.

"And the pointed hat?"

"They have special knowledge poured into them," I said.

"And why the black clothes?"

"Because their works are unseen by others."

"And the pointed nose?"

"They have an extra sense."

"And why are they old ladies?"

"Because their knowledge surpasses their youth."

"I always thought of them as caricatures," he smiled.

"They draw the truth," I said.

Our next bus arrived and we got on. There were only a handful of passengers. I noticed as we drove that the road ascended. The forest was thicker than before, dark and ominous. There were no towns or villages, or if there were I could not see them.

It was now noon and we ate the sandwiches Fayna had packed for us. There was a thermos of hot tea. We took turns drinking from it.

"You have known Nonna all your life," he said suddenly. "Did you know she was a witch?"

"No," I said.

"Then when did you find out?"

"When she found out about me," I said. "When I turned 16. That's when the power emerges. She asked me to move into her house and we began with the roses. But I didn't know about Valentin at first or Ayasha. She told me that stuff later. There's still stuff she hasn't told me about him, like how it all got started that he went after her family. I am tired now. I want to sleep on your shoulder."

He nodded and put his arm around me and I fell into a deep sleep.