Notes from My Captivity(23)

Today was insane. The rapids were worse than anyone thought. Sergei was going too fast, and Viktor got smacked by a tree. And I thought he was dead for a minute. That life could be running through you one second and then just stop. I know I should have known this before, but this time it was right in front of—

A rustling in the brush. Footsteps moving toward me. I catch my breath, then release it in relief.

“Sergei, don’t scare me like that!”

His face is dark in the shadows. “A man has to pee, too.”

“Well, pee somewhere else. I have marked this territory and I declare it Adrienne Land.”

He laughs. “You are funny. I need funny tonight. I need to forget things. What’s in your hand?” he asks, nodding at my recorder. Before I can answer he adds, “Ah, the reporter is at it again,” and grabs the device from me.

“Hey! That’s private. Give it back.” I swoop for the recorder, but he giggles and holds it away from me, batting away my attempts to recover it.

“Let’s see what you’ve been saying.” He presses some buttons, and my voice fills our tiny perimeter.

“The rapids were worse than anyone thought. Sergei was going too fast and Viktor got smacked by a tree. . . .”

Sergei’s smile fades. “So that’s what you really think. That I was going too fast.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, that’s what you said.” He hands the recorder back to me, and I stuff it in my pocket. I don’t really like the direction this is going. Something about his tone warns me.

“You know what else you said?” he adds. “You said you had a boyfriend. But you kissed me. You held my hand today. You flirted with me. Can you explain that?”

He leans in close, his breath smelling of whiskey and chili, a combination that should be banned in all parts of the world.

“I gotta go back to camp.”

I duck my head, trying to move past him, but he blocks my way and pushes me backward against a tree.

I try to keep my voice calm. “Sergei.” He’s holding me by the arms and his grip is hard.

“Come on,” he says. “Stop going back and forth. You like me, you don’t like me. You talk to me, you ignore me.”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“Kiss me.”

His hands are strong and insistent. He kisses me, hard, and I jerk my head away, thumping it painfully against the back of the tree.

“Stop it!” I manage, but he holds me tighter, pressing himself against me.

He’s still kissing me. The weeds we’re standing in thrash as we struggle. My arms hurt where he holds me. A feeling of panic is beginning to take over. My thoughts are jumbled up, and I have the sensation of being held underwater.

I twist and writhe, managing to free an arm long enough to reach up and rake my nails down his face. He gasps and lets go of me. I try to run past him, but he catches me again and slams me against the tree. It’s so dark that I can barely see his face.

“You bitch,” he whispers.

Suddenly he wrenches away from me, and I can’t understand what just happened until I see that Dan has arrived on the scene.

“You get your goddamn hands off my daughter!” he shouts.

“It’s nothing, really,” Sergei is trying to say. “It’s a joke, that’s all. . . .”

My body floods with relief and embarrassment and the shock of hearing Dan swear for the first time ever. I reach down and fumble for the flashlight as Dan marches Sergei back to the campground. Sergei’s in much better shape, but Dan has sobriety and rage on his side.

I follow them back to camp, my heart still thudding wildly. My mouth hurts from the angry, mean kiss. Dan pushes Sergei down in front of the fire, where Lyubov and Viktor look up dazed and drunk, trying to follow the action but confused by the scene. Somehow a branch came up and whacked their good time while they were looking the other way. Viktor sets down the bottle and tries to stand.

“Come on,” he says. He staggers forward, falls to his knees. His arms are spread wide. “We are all friends! All cut from the same blanket!”

“Shut up,” Dan tells him. “And stay out of this.”

Sergei picks himself up. By the firelight I can see the red scrapes my nails left on his face. I feel sick. “She teased me!” he tells Dan. “All she wants is information for her stupid story!”

Dan gets in his face, his fist clenched. “There’s no excuse! My daughter told you no. Did you hear her say no? I heard her from ten yards away!”

“You’re blaming me. You’re blaming me for everything.”

Sergei is angry now, pushing Dan.

Dan pushes him back.

I jump between them.

“Stop it. This isn’t helping anything!” My voice sounds high and shrill in the cooling night air. Lyubov and Viktor have their heads bowed, saying nothing. They might be drunk, but they still know how to stay out of a fight.

“Go to your tent,” Dan tells me quietly.

I obey him, shocked and humiliated about the way the night has turned on me. I sit alone, my recorder hovering close to my lips, but I can’t speak into it without crying. I turn it off and pull my knees to my chest, hugging them close, listening to the argument outside turn to Russian, the language of strong opinions. Of all the things I thought I’d run into here in Siberia, a situation like this would be dead last. Not threatened by a grizzly or the weather or a wolf or a family of monsters but some drama with a guy. Maybe Sergei was right. Maybe I did lead him on.