Page 96 of The Harbinger
I drew closer, staring at the woman with her hands clasped before her, and studied the sadness permanently etched into her face. Her scarf blew in the wind as the man’s hand hung down by his side. There wasn’t a plaque that stated why she mourned this man, just red and white flowers sitting in a singular basket before her.
Footsteps scuffled behind me, and I didn’t need to look back to know whose they belonged to.
“Who is she?”
“Mother Russia,” Sacha said, walking up behind me. “She’s mourning for the men lost during the wars.”
“It’s devastating.”
He sighed. “I’m finished here. Should we go?”
“So soon?” Wasn’t this my reward for behaving? “I thought maybe we could… I don’t know, look around a little.”
Not thirty minutes ago, I’d begged to go home as every pore on my body screamed from the torture, but now that I was inside experiencing the majesty of this place, it felt wrong not to learn a little.
Sasha glanced at his watch. “Just for a bit. Then we’ll get you home.”
Home.
Home was a place where you belonged, where you were wanted. I wasn’t either of those things to Sacha’s house or to him.
But still, my skin tingled, and my belly fluttered as I milled over the term. He called it my home as if it were an all-encompassing statement. Or was it a slip of the tongue? How could it be mine when he so easily locked me away when I disobeyed… for what I still wasn’t sure.
If Sacha had a change of heart since those frightful words spilled out of his mouth, I’d missed the catalyst that caused it.
My steps were light as Sacha guided me upstairs and into the room at the top of the steps on the third floor.
“Why would they have Superman in a military museum?”
Sasha gave me an incredulous look, his brow raised as if he couldn’t believe I said such a thing.
The bronze and stone man held his left hand high into the air, his cape flapping behind him, and in his right, he held a flame with bronze filigree outstretched before him.
“Don’t look at me like that. He has a cape, and he looks like he’s about ready to fly into the sky,” I said, shrugging.
“That is the Soldier of Victory.”
“Oh, like Lady Liberty?”
Sasha shook his head as he walked me to the rotunda walls with names carved about them. “Lady Liberty was given to America to honor an alliance. This statue was created for all the heroes who died combating fascism—about eight and a half million soldiers.”
“That’s…” I gasped. “That’s so many.” Between the fragility of it all, and his protective stance beside me, I walked around the circular walls with the domed ceiling wondering why he’d bring me here, and then he interrupted those thoughts when we’d come full circle to the door we’d entered.
“It’s time to go now.”
The heavyweight of death and melancholy swirled around us as I accepted his order to leave the morose building. Learning about the death of millions of people while I sat in luxury and complained was boorish at best.
A crowd gathered outside around the Eternal Flame as we walked towards the SUV, their eyes swiping toward us as we passed.
I’d left the uneasy feeling inside the museum only for a dash of fear to take its place, slicking my palms as it scraped against my psyche.
What was with these people?
Why was Sacha so well known? What had his father done to gain such notoriety? Or, more importantly, what hadSashadone?
The drive home was like any other, awkward silence as I stared at the passing scenery. Except this time, Sacha had kept his hand on my knee, his thumb moving back and forth as he caressed over my pants. When I’d first arrived, the leaves turned from deep green into a yellowish tint forecasting the impending cool weather.
By the time Dmitri pulled the SUV into the rounded driveway, my stomach ached with hunger, and my tongue turned dry from thirst.