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To be fair to Aleksander, Ididgo to Vegas seeking a thrill. The thrill I was after might have been something more along the lines of a limitless sushi buffet and catching HPV, but this is preferable by far. I feel like a woman in a Bond movie, though my experience with them is limited and I’m existing within my bastardized interpretation of one. Still, I’ve never felt so alive in my life.
When I was a teenager, I assumed that my big dreams would be limited to things like opening my own record label and being a world-renowned producer. It was a modest dream, all things considered, but I never would have imagined that I would be running away from the Russian mafia and hiding from them in Japan. If anyone had told me three years ago that this is where I would be today, I would have told them to get some fresh air and go to an AA meeting.
The sun begins to rise steadily over the distant mountain peaks, and the light nestles itself into the topography of the ceiling above me. I love watching the shadows change, growing and morphing into an entirely new landscape every half-hour or so.
I’ve never felt so at peace or relaxed before, and I realize that a big part of this could be the fact that I’ve been off social media since Aleksander kidnapped me. Nobody is blowing up my phone with notifications about unfunny dog videos or controversy in the music industry. The noise in my head has quieted considerably, and I never thought that being abducted would have such a tangibly beneficial side effect.
I’m tempted to go outside and wander around the garden, but I realize that this might be seen as overfamiliar and unwelcome in a traditional Japanese household. I’m hoping that before we leave to our next unplanned mystery destination, I’ll have the chance to really soak in the surrounding beauty. I need to take some of this scenery home with me. I might even try painting some of it if I’m feeling particularly inspired.
Just as I’m beginning to contemplate the benefits of going back to sleep, Aleksander turns over and faces me with deliriant, sleepy eyes. “Hey, how long have you been awake?” he asks, squinting in order to see me better in the dim light.
“A couple of hours, but it’s fine. It’s been a really nice morning to just... be. How did you sleep?” I ask, noting his continuously mangled sleeping position from throughout the night.
“Not bad, pretty well actually. I mean, we’re on the floor, so that’s different. But there’s no city noise outside either. It’s like my brain doesn’t have to process as much bullshit so I feel better,” he replies, slowly sitting up and cracking his back.
“Yeah, I’ve never considered sleeping on the floor before, but now I might just do it for the fun of it. It’s kind of nice once you get settled in,” I reply. I’m reminded suddenly of how much of a bitch I was to Aleksander last night, and I feel a pang of guilt and regret. Right now, he just seems like a regular, tired man with a lot on his mind. I’d hate to know that I made it worse, even though throwing me out of an airplane was pretty uncalled for.
There’s a lull in the energy flow between us, the extra space taken up by the sound of songbirds outside our window. We both listen to it for a moment, and I think we’re both beginning to truly understand how city life has deprived us both of such organic, still moments in time.
“You know, I lived in a small town like this before I came to the US from Russia. It was pretty quiet most of the time, but the neighborhood boys would throw rocks at the birds on power lines. It must be nice to live in a place like this where everything moves slower all the time,” he says, lying back down flat on the floor.
“Yeah, it kind of feels like my brain is being... cleansed? I know that sounds weird, but I just feel so much better being out here away from the city. I love the city, that’s where everything worth doing is, but out here things feel a little more human,” I reply, allowing my guilt to recede a bit as he opens up.
“That’s kind of a weird thing to say, but I think I get it. It would probably take, like, a whole year to get all the pollution and smog and shit out of your lungs through. Brain cleansing is more feasible in short trips,” he replies.
I sit up in my blanket nest, leaning against the wall to my right. “Hey, so I just wanted to apologize for how shitty I’ve been to you since yesterday. I mean, the situation isn’t ideal, but I still could have handled it better and tried to understand a little. I don’t know enough about your life to really process how you do things.”
He turns to me, his eyes confused but appreciative. “You don’t have to apologize. Our lives are so different that I couldn’t understand your reservation about the whole thing either, not really. These big stupid cat and mouse games are so frequent for me that jumping all over the world really just feels like commuting to a job I hate sometimes.”
I laugh a little, immediately feeling some of the weight lifted from my shoulders. “Yeah, I guess I can see how that would work. So, um, I know it kind of doesn’t matter, but I just wanted to be more transparent about what my job is. I don’t work in finance, for starters.”
He laughs as well, scoffing a bit and rolling his eyes. “You really didn’t think that I could call you on your bullshit? I party with guys in finance all the time, they’d chew you up in seconds if you walked into a room full of them. You’d hate that atmosphere. So, what do you actually do?”
Even though the progression of the conversation feels very natural, I’m still a little too flattered by the fact that he cares about my job at all.
I turn to face him a little more, noting the curiosity in his expression. “I’m a sound engineer. I got into it because I wanted to learn how to make music the way I enjoy hearing it, but so far, it’s mostly been nothing but working with teenagers with rich parents. Everybody really thinks they have what it takes to be a permanent fixture in the music scene, but they’re all just god-awful.”
Before he has a chance to respond, the woman of the house knocks on the door and asks if we would like to join her and her husband for breakfast. If I were still my former self from before all of this, I would refuse on the principle of trying not to impose any further. However, this experience wouldn’t be complete without a bowl of local home-cooked food and the exchanging of stories. I know enough Japanese to help translate, and this will be the most I’ve ever gotten out of my Japanese minor in college.
Aleksander and I follow her down to the dining room where she’s set out two bowls of Japanese curry and rice on the table. She’s seated us next to each other, which makes perfect sense given the optics but still makes my stomach flutter a bit at the implication. She thinks we’re together – I wonder if she thinks we’re a good couple.
It takes some getting used to, but eventually I’m able to help keep the conversations flowing among the four of us. I haven’t felt this connected to anyone in a long time, and I never would have been able to have this experience if Aleksander hadn’t thrown me out of a plane.
16
Aleksander
We spend the rest of the day relaxing, eventually working our way out to the garden behind the house like Faye wanted to. I usually wouldn’t have the presence of mind to seek out this kind of meditative state, but the distance from the city is already working wonders for me.
The next day, I’ve decided that we need to move onto our next destination before Grisha has the chance to wise up about our location. Even though I’m still not certain how he tracked us to Japan in the first place, I’m not confident that he would be able to find us in one day. Still, I’d rather be too cautious and end up ahead than underestimate him.
The elderly couple washes our clothes for us, giving us some fresh garments to wear for when we leave their house. It feels good to get out of the salty, musty clothes we fell into the ocean with, and I feel like a new person. Faye looks absolutely stunning in the outfit that the woman chose for her, even though she’s still sleepy-eyed and dysregulated from the trip.
We set out at noon, and Faye is able to figure out how to call a taxi to pick us up and bring us to the closest large city. The ride feels like it takes a millennium, but sitting next to Faye gives everything more weight, more meaning suddenly. Sitting in a cab for two hours is such a mundane activity, but absorbing her presence makes it all feel just a little more meaningful. I don’t know what it is about her that makes me feel that way, but it’s hard not to notice.
It takes a few tries before we’re able to pull money out of an ATM, but I’m finally able to withdraw enough to get us some food and a decent hotel until we figure out our next moves. An immense feeling of relief fills my chest as soon as we have the means of sustaining ourselves without the help of the little old couple in Misato.
“What are you hungry for?” I ask Faye as we sit down and collect ourselves.
