'Can we get ice cream?' a fat woman demanded. Next to her was an almost identical fat woman. They were either mother and daughter or sisters.
'See,' whispered Boris. 'You think they need a fat scoop of ice cream? No. They're never going to look like French women but we can help them a little.'
'I recant,' said Tkach looking down at Boris. 'You are a saint, not a hero of the Revolution.'
For the next few hours the two men worked in relative silence. Boris said no more about how to scoop. He served and watched the crowd for the possible return of the two criminals, an event that Tkach was certain would not take place.
'An ice cream, please,' came the woman's voice above the noise of the afternoon crowd when Tkach was turned away. Before he could respond to Maya's voice, Boris was serving her.
Behind Boris's back, Sasha turned and showed his white uniform to his wife and to Pulcharia who looked blankly at her father from the carrying sling on her mother's back. Maya, wearing her insulated blue coat, smiled, almost laughed at her husband who shrugged as Boris reached down to gather a hollow scoop. Sasha moved forward, put his hand on Boris's shoulder and shook his head 'no' when the little man turned to him.
'I'll take this customer,' Sasha said.
Boris considered reminding Tkach who was in charge of this ice cream stand but he stopped himself, remembering that this smiling youth was a policeman. It was difficult to remember that he was a policeman. He looked like… like a kid standing there with that smile, serving the pretty dark woman with the baby on her back. The woman smiled at this Sasha almost brazenly. The world, Boris thought, was falling into chaos. Muggers, thieves, young women with babies who throw themselves at young ice cream sellers. No young woman had ever thrown herself at Boris Manizer.
The young woman licked the ice cream and looking back held it over her shoulder for the baby to lick. The child, wearing a wool hat that revealed only its round face, leaned over to put its mouth on the ice cream and then, having tasted it, lean forward to plunge its whole face in the cold, sweet delicacy. The pretty young woman and Sasha shared a laugh. The child looked happy. Boris tried not to but he too smiled.
The woman said something to Sasha. Boris couldn't hear it over the noise of the crowd and the music that was now being piped throughout the pavilion. It sounded like something English or American. Boris didn't like it.
The pretty woman with the baby took another lick of the ice cream, smiled at Tkach and moved into the crowd.
'Very nice,' Boris said looking at the woman and child.
'Very nice,' Tkach agreed, adjusting his white cap.
A group of customers surged to the stand and began to order at the same time.
'Get in a line,' Boris called over the noise and the music.
Tkach continued to watch his wife who looked back at him, waved and reached back to raise Pulcharia's arm in a wave. Tkach raised a hand and Boris, who watched him from the comer of his eye, shook his head but kept working.
When the surge had cleared, Boris, who was lower than almost everyone in the pavilion, looked up to where the woman with the baby might have been. She was there, with her baby, deep in the crowd near a shop where little rockets and space trinkets and toys were sold. She was there, her eyes wide, talking to two young men, one of whom had red hair.
'There,' said Boris. 'There they are. The two you are looking for.'
'Where?' asked Tkach, scanning the crowd.
'There, by the Cosmonaut Shop,' cried Boris jumping up and pointing. 'With the woman who was just here, the woman with the baby.'
Tkach ripped the cap from his head sending his straight hair down over his forehead. He looked suddenly frantic.
'Where? I can't see them.'
Boris pointed and, through the crowd, Tkach saw them, saw the two young men, his wife and child cornered between them, pressing her backward toward an alcove, talking to her. Then he lost them in the crowd. Tkach leaped up on the ice cream stand for a better view, and spotted the redhead. Passing visitors paused to look up at the mad young man atop the ice cream stand and the little man in white who was shouting at him to come down.
Tkach caught a glimpse of his wife's frightened face looking in his direction. Tkach leaped down into the crowd as the redhead turned to see what Maya was looking at. Tkach had no way of knowing if the young man had seen him leap. Pushing his way through the crowd, Tkach tore off his white jacket and flung it back in the general direction of the ice cream stand. My fault, he thought, told himself, perhaps even said softly aloud as he pushed his way past people, glared madly at a burly man who grabbed his arm to slow him down, and moved quickly without running toward the Cosmonaut Shop.
Maya and the baby were out of sight now, pushed back into the alcove next to the shop. The dark-haired youth wasn't in sight, must be in the alcove with them. The redhead blocked the alcove entrance with his body and looked back to see if anyone was watching. Tkach slowed US down, looked to his right at a woman walking near him, forced himself to smile and nodded.
He wanted to run, to scream, but they might hurt Maya and the baby, might even grab them as hostages. It was maddening. Why had he told her to come there? And how could these two have the nerve to come back?
The redhead backed into the alcove, arms out at his side. Tkach had made his way to the right of the alcove. He now walked along toward it, looking over his shoulder at the shop window. His heart was pounding. He could feel it, take his pulse by it as he forced himself to move slowly, slowly, and then he was alongside the space between the shops, the alcove where the redhead was stepping into the shadows.
Tkach paused, smiled and asked, 'The oobo'rnaya, is it in here?' he asked.
'No,' said the redhead, who wore a punkish haircut with his head shaved on the sides. He had some kind of accent that made it difficult to understand him. 'Get away. We're working here.'
Pulcharia was weeping. Sasha could hear her in the darkness, over the noise.
'I'm sorry,' Tkach said, forcing his most winning smile, 'but I've got to get in here.'
Before the redhead could respond. Tkach stepped into the alcove, leaned forward and threw his right hand out sharply, his knuckles connecting with the young man's stomach. The redhead grunted, staggered back in surprise and fell to his knees leaving just enough space for Tkach to get past him. Sasha could see outlines of people further in the darkness and, as he moved past the redhead who called out the name Ben and reached out to stop him, Tkach rammed his left knee between the groping hands and felt it connect with the redhead's face.
The dark-haired youth, whose name was Ben, called back something in a foreign language and Tkach lunged forward. Now he could see Maya and the baby, fear on his wife's face, the dark-haired youth pulling her hair back, forcing her down to the ground. Pulcharia was crying out of control.
The dark-haired youth named Ben turned and saw that it was not his friend coming toward him, but a slender young man. Ben was stocky, physically confident. He showed no fear, only disdain for the smaller, delicate man hurrying toward him. His friend was probably behind this fool, ready to take him. But that did not happen and Ben had to let go of the woman's hair and turn to face the advancing idiot.
Ben could see beyond the advancing man now, could see his red-haired partner on his knees holding his face, could see the people passing by the mouth of the alcove looking in but not pausing, not wanting to get involved, could now see the furious face of the young man coming toward him. It took less than a few seconds and, had he not been holding the pretty woman by the hair with one hand and touching her with the other he would have had his knife out. He was just reaching in his pocket for it, sure he had time to get it out, when the slender man threw himself forward with an anguished scream and fell on Ben who rumbled backward in the narrow space, landed on his back, striking his head on the concrete. He punched at the man's side and ribs, punched hard, punches that should have sent the man tumbling off of him in agony, but the man was possessed, insane. The man ignored the punches, screamed and began to punch at Ben's face.
Ben told him to stop, said that he had enough, said that he gave up, but the man continued to beat him. Ben felt his nose break, heard the young woman behind him shouting for the man to stop.
You tell him, lady, Ben thought. This lunatic is going to kill me. And that was his final thought before he passed out.
