O' Brother, Where Art Thou?

"How have you been? Is everything all right? You didn't return any of my phone calls and..."

"I'm fine."

Her curt reply stung. "Is there some reason you wouldn't even talk to me? Are you mad at me or something?"

There it was. That boyish 'you hurt me so bad' look that she couldn't deal with. "You know why, Sergei. Don't embarrass us both by asking me to spell it out for you." She looked around, leaned toward and said quietly, "That can't ever happen again. This can't happen." She spread her hands out to indicate she meant him and her.

Sergei pushed the food around on his plate then asked, "Is there someone else? Have you met someone?"

Larissa wanted to tell him there was but she was a terrible liar. Truth be told she was still unable to date a man—any man. The trust issues were hard enough but the thought of being intimate with him was too much. She didn't know how to be someone's friend yet let alone a girlfriend. Marissa was helping her learn but were it not for Marissa's own deep insecurities there was little chance even she would have befriended Larissa. They were more co-dependent than two people sharing a part of their lives with each other. But perhaps Larissa could learn how to act and more importantly how to actually be a friend to someone. She desperately wanted her dream of a family to come true, but she knew she had a long way to go before that could become a reality.

"No. There's no one else, Sergei. I'm too fucked up to have a boyfriend. For God's sake, look at us. We're adults living on our own and yet here we are together—again. And don't even try and tell me this is just about talking or dinner. You and I both know exactly what this is about and I'm here to tell you that part of my life is over. Do you understand me?"

During her final sentence, their server walked up and started to ask whether they might need something else. The harsh tone in Larissa' voice, the hissing sound she made, caused the server to say, "I'm sorry. I'll come back in a few minutes."

"Larissa, I just wanted to let you know I'm being sent to Afghanistan," he told her.

The angry, contorted lines in her forehead softened then smoothed. She blinked several times as she looked down to avoid his stare. "When do you leave?" she asked.

"In two weeks," he said. "We've been training and preparing for the last two months. We'll be gone for a year and I wanted to see you. I wanted to let you know in case...you know."

Larissa felt sick to her stomach but not from the thought of being with her brother again. It was the thought of him coming home in a flag-draped casket. The thought of never seeing him again. The crystal-clear clarity she had when she agreed to meet him for dinner was gone. She was once again a jumbled mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions. She couldn't think. She couldn't speak. She just sat there looking at her uneaten food.

"I also wanted you to know that I made you my official next of kin. You know, in case..."

"Seryozha, заткнись!" "Shut up!!"

"Just stop it. I know what you're doing and..."

"Larissa, I'm not doing anything. I'm just talking to you. Look, there's no way Dad is going to get a dime from me. You're the beneficiary of my serviceman's group life insurance now. It's just over $400,000 and I want..."

"Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!!" she nearly screamed. "I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you. I just want you to leave me alone!" Her faced was once again screwed up in anger and despair. There were tears in her eyes and her voice was choked with emotion.

"I want to be cremated, Larissa," he continued determined to finish what he'd started. "I don't deserve to buried in Arlington Cemetery with those real heroes. I'm broken. I'm defective. I'm what people call a freak of nature. I just want to be incinerated and forgotten." He paused and said, "By everyone—but you."

The words he spoke were more than just words because she knew exactly how he felt. Somewhere deep down, she knew she wasn't to blame for the way she was. This was the fault of her poor excuse of a father. It was his failure to love and nurture her and provide a decent male role model for her brother. He instilled in them the fear and anxiety that ruled their lives. He made them feel the shame they bore and lived with every day. Yes, they were still responsible for what they'd done together but only in the strictest sense. Even there, their miserable mistake of a father was to blame for their fucked-up needs and desires. She wanted to tell him about the pregnancy. The baby. Their baby. But she knew it would only cause more confusion and more pain.

"How could I ever forget my own brother?" she said quietly without looking up. "How could I not remember all the times you kept him from me? How could I not think of the times we held each other when we only had each other?" She looked up at him and through her tears asked, "How could you possibly think I wouldn't still love you?" As she spoke those words, she lost control of her emotions and began to sob loudly and uncontrollably.

People looked and then stared at this pretty young girl who was in such pain. The women shot angry looks at Sergei assuming this was his fault. He took out his wallet, laid $50 in cash on the table and stood up. "Come on. I'll take you home," he told her.

Larissa just sat there and sobbed. Sergei knelt down next to her and grabbed a linen napkin and dabbed her eyes. "Larissa? Let's go home, okay?"

She stood up and grabbed her purse while Sergei helped her with her coat. People were still staring but his apparent kindness seemed to mollify them for the most part.

He hailed a taxi but Larissa said, "No. I want to walk."

"But it's over three miles to your apartment and it's cold outside," he said.

"I don't care. I want to walk," she said as she pulled her coat tight and buttoned it up.

Sergei lifted up the hood in back and covered her head. "Okay, we'll walk."

It took them almost an hour to get home and neither of them had said a word. At her doorstep he said, "So...I guess I'll be seeing you then."

She'd stopped crying but she was no more able to think clearly than she had been at the restaurant. "No, come inside. I'll make you some hot tea. I don't have much to eat, but you didn't touch your meal. You need to eat something. Then you can go."

"I'm not hungry," he told her.

"Okay, then just the tea," she said as she unlocked the door and let them in.

"You can put your coat here with mine," she said as she dropped hers and went to put on some water to boil.

"That's okay," he said. "I won't be staying."

A few minutes later she set a steaming mug in front of him and said, "Here you go."

He looked at the tag and said, "This is Earl Grey. Look at you learning about the finer things in life."

Most people would have laughed. Larissa's apartment was still very spartan in spite of her attempts to make it look like a home. She depended on Marissa to keep her from buying the cheap, gaudy junk that looked so shiny and beautiful to her. She didn't know Earl Grey from any other tea. She just liked the box it came in.

"Drink," she said. "It'll warm you up."

After her third sip Larissa said, "Tell me what you do. In the Army. Is it dangerous?"

"I'm an infantryman," he told her.

Larissa knew almost nothing about the military but she did know the infantry fought on the front lines. She'd also heard that the Taliban planted bombs on the roads and that every time soldiers rode in a vehicle they could be killed, and that was more than she wanted to know.

"Are you afraid?" she asked.

"No, not really." He took another sip and told her how good it tasted. "I'm not afraid to die, Larissa, and you know why. The only think I'm afraid of is...losing you."

He watched her reaction when he told her how he felt and she looked right at him and said, "Черт возьми!" Go to hell! "You can't lose me because you don't HAVE me! Don't you understand that? I'm not yours! I can't be...yours!" Her hard exterior crumbled as she finished speaking. Her hands were shaking and she was crying again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like..."

"You need to go now," she said softly as tears fell to her cheeks which were red from the anger and the hurt.

He finished his tea and said, "Thank you for the tea." He stood up and walked toward the door. "So I guess this is goodbye."

"I guess so," she said softly.

He put his hand on the doorknob then stopped and walked back to the table where she was still sitting. "I'd like to hug you one last time," he told her.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said without looking up.

"I don't want this to be our last memory, Larissa," he said as he reached out and touched her hand which was holding her cup.

"Don't," she said. "Please just go."

"I can't," he said. "I can't leave like this."

He uncurled her fingers and held them with his. "Sergei, no..."

"Just a hug. That's all. Please. На всякий случай," he said quietly. "Just in case."

She knew she shouldn't give in, but the thought of never seeing her brother again was very powerful. He raised her hand slightly and then she pushed her chair back and let him help her stand up. She knew better than to look at him as she put her arms around his broad shoulders.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" she told him. "And be safe."

"I will," he promised her. "I know you won't write to me, but I also know you'll think of me and that you know I'll be thinking of you." He held her close and said, "I will always be thinking of you, Larissa because..."

"Please don't say it. Please," she begged him.

"I'm not leaving until you know," he replied.

Tears fell again as she said, "I already know. I've always known."

"That I love you?" he said as he stroked her long, dark hair.

"Yes," she managed to say.

"That I'm still in love with you?"

He felt her shake her head as though she meant to tell him she didn't know that or didn't believe it. Instead she choked out, "I know."

He hugged her close then raised his hand and put his index finger under her chin and lifted gently.

"Please don't, Seryozha," she pleaded. She tried to will herself not to let him. She couldn't look into his eyes again. She just couldn't. And yet as he continued to raise her chin she found herself unable not to meet his gaze.

As she did, she blinked several times. Her eyes darted back and forth between his and she knew that he knew.

"You're in love with me, too, aren't you?" he said as he stroked her cheek with the back of his finger.

"Yes," she said without looking away. "I hate myself for it, but I have always been in love with you."

"Then perhaps you'll help me take off my coat?"

With a will of their own her hands reached up and began unbuttoning the big, heavy peacoat knowing they wouldn't stop there.

Two minutes later they were both completely undressed. Sergei kissed her gently then picked her up and carried her to the futon which still served as her bed.

Larissa wanted him inside her so badly it hurt. She couldn't explain how but the thought of not having him made her ill. She took him in her mouth for several minutes remembering how wonderful it felt to love him like that. She'd forgotten how he filled her mouth as well as her hand as she cupped him again.

She was happy when she didn't have to ask him to pleasure her orally once he'd been satisfied. She wanted to remember his handsome face between her legs forever. She wanted to connect the way her body felt when he touched her with this image knowing it would be there every time she touched herself that way from then on.

She cried out as his tongue did exactly what she'd wanted it to do. Somehow, he just knew when to stop using it and replace it with what she wanted the most. It was the only thing she wanted or needed in the world. His beautiful член (chlyen which literally means 'member') inside of her. His хуй (hooey or cock) fucking her the way he had before.

She pushed hard against him and pulled him close accepting his tongue when he kissed her then letting it go when he began to thrust. The sound of his grunting sent her body into pleasant spasms of passion. The feel of his hot semen splashing inside of her body was ecstasy.

When he was through, he lay quietly beside her holding his hand. "I want this to be our last memory," he said as he stared up at the ceiling above them.

Larissa squeezed his hand in agreement. He showered, dressed, and hugged her goodbye. As they held one another he whispered, "Я тебя люблю Ларисса." "I love you, Larissa."

She choked back tears and said, "И Я тебя." "And I you."

As the months passed she tried to forget about him. A beautiful card came just before Christmas Day. He only told her that he was thinking of her—always—and that he was fine. Two months later another card arrived on her birthday along with a dozen red roses. Again he told her that her thoughts filled every waking moment of every day.

Two months later, on a chilly Spring day, she was leaving the ballet studio when she saw two men in green uniforms standing out front. She quickened her pace and tried to walk passed them when one of them said, "Ma'am? Are you Larissa Golovko?"

As the life drained out of her she croaked a one-word reply. "Yes."

"Ma'am, I'm Captain Darren Williams. It is my sad duty to inform you that your brother, Army Sergeant Sergei Golovko, was killed this morning in Afghanistan by an Improvised Explosive Device or roadside bomb."

She didn't hear anything else when he told her about something called a 'death gratuity' benefit or even when he handed her the check for $100,000. She would later receive his life insurance benefit of $400,000 but she would have to request it. She stood there and listened for another ten minutes then just walked away.

Robotically, she stopped by her bank on the way home and cashed the check and had two certified checks drawn up for $50,000 each. When she entered her apartment, she went inside and opened the door of the oven in her tiny kitchen and turned the black knob on top. She barely heard the sound of the hiss it made as she made her way to the table and addressed two envelopes. One was to Yana. The other was to Marissa. She didn't include a note explaining what she did or why. She put stamps on both then dropped them in the mailbox just outside her apartment.

She went back inside, took off her coat and used it to seal the crack between the floor and the door. She then made her way to the futon where she'd last held him. She sat down and thought of him. When she could no longer sit up, she gently laid down and continued thinking of him until she could no longer think knowing her nightmare was finally over.