Consequences Unforeseen

A Drink Before Dinner - Foros, June 11th 1991.

A Drink Before Dinner - Foros June 11th 1991.

“Go get yourself a beer in the town,” the voice in his head suggested. ‘My Uncle John must be thirsty,’ he thought and he smiled to himself. Having this man as his subconscious was a great thing, particularly since he himself liked his beer. He couldn't resist a silent chuckle at the thought.

“You have an hour or two to kill, an’ I want to talk to you before you enter the lion’s den. You’ll be better served if you understand these people here and what history we have amongst them. This man Gorbachev understands them and more. He understands the future and what it will mean for the entire Russian Empire. Your ancestor an’ my own great Uncle changed history here and I have a feelin’ that you are about to do the same.”

The Douglas always enjoyed these moments. It was like having your own time machine available and he never ignored this man, his great Uncle who was such a conduit to his own past and to that of his kinsmen going back to the 7th century. He wondered now what truths he was about to learn concerning  his ancestors actions during the Crimean war and the battle at Balaklava in particular.

He replied silently to his Uncle, ‘C’mon old man, don’t be tellin’ me everything before I have the beer in my hand. Shut up for a minute and let me get us into a nice spot to continue your history lesson.” He always felt like people would think he was a madman if he ever had these conversations out loud. But these were real discussion to him, and for whatever reason this man had never left him and Douglas had doubted for a long time now, that he ever would.

The town had changed in the few hours he had spent on the beach. The sun was lower in the sky and tinted the white walls and orange roofs of the town with an overwhelming rose color. The earlier storm clouds to the west flattening with the receding heat of the day and the sun fought through them giving everything a fairy tail hue and appearance. The scent of magnolia permeated everything and sweetened the air in what was now a gentle offshore breeze.

No street vendor stalls or clamor now, just a mingling of early evening walkers and bar hoppers. Couples with young kids taking time out over a coffee here and a soft drink there. Ice cream was the order of the evening and walking through it all, Douglas reflected that he could have been in Greece or Albania. These people here seemed well ready for a change back to earlier times when Russia was but an influence in their region rather than the all controlling master it had become.

The little corner bar, unnoticed earlier at the end of the beach beckoned him with gentle lights and quiet Greek music reaching his ears. The Bouzouki could be enchanting and even romantic on the right occasion. Romance was a long way from his mind right now, but he did pause to think how much he’d have enjoyed having Kris here to take in this great little hideaway together. He reached out in his mind to her as she slept thousands of miles away in Tokyo. He knew she felt him, he just knew it.

“Stop your daydreamin’ will you!” hit him like a solid blow. "Get us that beer for God’s sake we’ve got some time, but not all fucking night.”

"Ok, ok,” he thought in response and he took a seat on the patio overlooking the sea and the setting sun.

The young girl who approached him smiled at first then gave a blush as recognition dawned on her. perhaps, he thought, he had been less invisible the other night than he’d imagined. She probably thought he was some pervert who’d been spying on them he reflected, so he said quickly, “Don’t be embarrassed young lady, your secret is safe with me," and he gave her a wink, just as an older man and obviously her father approached to see what was giving his daughter pause in her waitressing duties, or so it appeared.

“I’ll have a Chernihivske please,” he said with a smile. “Fuck you,” his Uncle John said quickly. “I prefer the Obolon beer. That other stuff makes you suck your cheeks in.”