White Niggers
Chapter 67
Thursday, October 10th, 2019, 10:30
Dr. Karl-Lueger Platz 3, 1st district of Vienna
Lisa pays and goes out of Café Prückel. She crosses the square and walks on the opposite side. There is an ice cream parlor and an antique bookstore next to it. Lisa briefly looks at old books in the display racks. She suppresses her instinct to rummage through them.
She walks further down the Wollzeile. There is an A-frame sign with a poster. It features a picture of a wounded bear and the lettering "Save Balkan Bears."
It reminds Lisa of an old children's poem:
On the floor lies tiny teddy,
Half a paw is gone already.
He is tattered, torn and lame,
Yet I love him just the same.
Right now there is a tiny teddy in her life – her mother. She seems to have Alzheimer's – half her brain gone already. If she goes back to Nikolaev, the neo-Nazis may finish what dementia started.
She tries to arrange Lisa's marriage without regard for Lisa's interests – that is certainly lame. It's an understatement – she is a bitch alright, Lisa thinks. But she is our bitch. And we know nothing about the moral qualities of the teddy. He probably wasn't a saint before he ended up without a paw. We'd need to hear the side of the perpetrator before reaching a conclusion.
Lisa hears a familiar female voice.
"Lisa, hello!" The voice says to Lisa.
Lisa turns around and sees Zoe.
"Zoe… good afternoon," Lisa says.
"How are you doing?" Zoe says.
"My mother is here on a visit," Lisa says.
"How wonderful!" Zoe says.
"Yeah…" Lisa says.
She swallows, as if trying to get rid of the lump in her throat.
"What's the matter?" Zoe says.
"She has Alzheimer's," Lisa says. "And it seems to be dangerous at home. Everybody talks about criminals walking around there… I am thinking what to do."
"I am sorry, Lisa," Zoe says. "If I can help you in any way, just ask."
"Actually, you can," Lisa says. "When is the last time you were in Russia?"
"In summer, couple of months ago," Zoe says. "Why?"
"I am thinking about moving there with my mother," Lisa says.
"How would it solve the Alzheimer's problem?" Zoe says.
"For once, I could use the City-Country differential," Lisa says.
"Pardon?" Zoe says.
"Let's say I find a decent job in Moscow," Lisa says. "I could find a flat for my mother in the countryside. A rouble earned in Moscow goes a longer way in the countryside, maybe long enough to hire a nurse."
"Russian corporate culture is much worse than the Austrian one," Zoe says.
"I think I can handle it," Lisa says. "I go easy on you, but towards my enemies I can be a lioness."
The memory of her last encounter with Buba makes her smile.
"You are one of the smartest people I know, Lisa, but this is very stupid," Zoe says.
"You think I can't act tough?" Lisa says. "Wanna find out?"
Lisa raises her fists and gets into the boxing stance. They both laugh.
"I know your sharp tongue all too well," Zoe says. "It's not this."
"Then what is it?" Lisa says.
"Russia is being governed by a cabal of intelligence officers and oligarchs," Zoe says.
"I thought Putin was in charge," Lisa says.
"Putin died of cancer long ago," Zoe says. "He is buried in an underground mausoleum in Sochi."
"Then who is this person who claims to be Putin?" Lisa says.
"It's one of his Doppelgängers," Zoe says.
"There is more than just one of them?" Lisa says.
"Of course," Zoe says. "Experts say that today we see either the fifth or sixth Doppelgänger."
"What happened to the prior five or four?" Lisa says.
"They get to know what happens behind the scenes," Zoe says. "Sooner or later they cannot stand the corruption and crimes any longer, and they speak up. Then their handlers kill them and dissolve their bodies in acid."
"That sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie," Lisa says. "Or a comedy: 'Revenge of the animatronic Putin.'"
Lisa chuckles.
"This is no laughing matter," Zoe says. "There is empirical proof for this."
"Empirical?" Lisa says.
"Have you ever compared the videos of Putin from, say, 1998 and now?" Zoe says.
"No," Lisa says. "Actually, I rarely watch his speeches."
"Well, if you watched and compared them, you'd see that today he speaks and behaves completely differently from the 1990s," Zoe says. "There are some mannerisms that you cannot fake, body language. The analysis of those videos clearly shows that the man we see today is not the one we saw back in 1998."
Because he got twenty years older, Lisa thinks. But let's not wield the Occam's razor, I need information from her.
"Maybe you are right," Lisa says. "But how does this affect the ordinary people?"
"Extreme poverty, that's how," Zoe says. "70% of Russian households don't have running water. 90% of Russians never saw a washing machine in their lives. 40% of villages don't have electricity. The are using pine torches for lighting. The economy is in tatters!"
"To be honest, I find those numbers hard to believe," Lisa says. "I once was on a holiday in Moscow. I don't know about the economy, but day-to-day experience was very similar to Kiev. There were certainly toilets and running water and electricity."
"That's Moscow," Zoe says. "But drive a few dozen kilometers outside and you'll find Nigeria in snow."
"What about the crime?" Lisa says.
"It's rampant," Zoe says. "The government kills whomever they want to."
"Really?" Lisa says. "It's not what I see in the media."
"Look up what happened to Nemtsov and Starovoitova," Zoe says. "But crime is not the biggest problem."
"What's the biggest problem?" Lisa says.
"Technological disasers," Zoe says. "Every day a nuclear power plant blows up. In St. Petersburg the pipes of the heating system ruptured. A woman fell inside and was cooked alive in the boiling water. Can you believe it? If the street thugs don't kill you, the crumbling infrastructure will."
"I didn't know it is so bad," Lisa says.
"Why do you think all Russians want to get out?" Zoe says.
"All?" Lisa says.
"All those who've got the brains and the grit to do something with their lives," Zoe says. "There are, of course, people too lazy and too stupid to hold a job better than that of a security guard in a supermarket. These stay in Russia and are very patriotic."
"What about those pampered Russian tourists?" Lisa says. "Go to any high-end boutique and five times out of ten you will hear people talking Russian there."
"These are all oligarchs or mafiosi," Zoe says. "Or their girlfriends and captains."
"Hm," Lisa says.
"Don't take my word: Just ask the Russians at the next 'Capital City Light' meeting. Tell them you want to move to Russia when you could become a lawyer here. Observe their reactions. I bet half of them will tell you are crazy, another half will say they'd give their right hand to be in your position. All of them will question you being Ukrainian."
"How come?" Lisa says.
"It's very Russian to sacrifice your own prosperity for the czar, motherland, the flag and all that crap," Zoe says. "I think the Ukrainians are more pragmatic, more sensible. Or, at least, that's the impression that I have."
"You may be right regarding appearances," Lisa says. "Well, thank you for the warning."
"You are welcome," Zoe says.
"And sorry for putting you on the spot regarding the bottle, back then," Lisa says.
"No problem at all," Zoe says. "By the way, if your mother needs any help, feel free to ask. I know a lot of doctors."
"Thank you," Lisa says.
They say goodbye.
When Lisa comes back to her flat, it is empty. Lisa sits down behind her desk. In one of its corners lies Timur's folder.
She opens it and browses inside. There is a newspaper cutout showing Odessa in ruins during World war II. Another image shows a parade of Nazis somewhere in Ukraine, also from World War II.
Don't know what to do with Timur, Lisa thinks. Blood is thicker than water, unfortunately.
She remembers the image of torchlight march from the newspaper. If she is to protect mother from them she probably will have to abandon her lofty ideas. Someone else will have to save Ukraine.
She hears the key in the lock and puts Timur's folder into a drawer. Her mother comes through the door.
They embrace each other. Tears do all the talking.