Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 89. Tangerana

I had fact checking to do.  The story is making the impossible, possible.  A man marrying a real prince!?  A country that doesn't care.  Impossible!!  And the science part.  

Tangerana

I did explain what I meant called Peter a straight man. They knew enough English, but this “straight man” term. It wasn’t about Peter being gay or straight, but the person involved with a joke that played innocent about the joke. Often, Peter was innocent because he really didn’t know. No acting was required. My brand of humor was sometimes difficult to understand. I was proud of that.

Stryia was pretty! That wasn’t surprising, but I was delighted at what I saw. There was no trash! That isn’t a lie or exaggeration. The streets and sidewalks were clean. Even the park was free of litter. Becky, one of the three student photographers from Northeastern that came to take better and more recent pictures of Makarovia and the royal family, she said Stryia looked like a fairy tale village. She was right.

“The village or towns are always this clean?” I asked as we resumed our walk through the flowers.

Peter gave a grudging nod, “Well, less than a month ago we had the focus of the world. Less than three or four years ago, the practically said; Makarovia!? Where the Hell is That? Now; Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That Is!” He threw his arm over my shoulder and squeezed me to him.

I grinned, nodding as my arm went in his far back pocket. “This news program will tell the world we’re Makarovian and we’re here.”

“We had a wedding?” Peter nudged. “All those guests? You know you always clean things up before guests arrive.”

I glanced Stepan and Vesil who walked behind us but at a little ridged. “Guys,” I turned to them. “Another thing you need to do, please?”

Peter smiled, “Relax!”

“You’re walking like you’re in a military formation or something,” I added.

“Habit,” Stepan shrugged.

The people in Stryia knew who we were, but they didn’t rush at us. We were known by every Makarovian. Granted, we had been an oddity to the world but known by Makarovians.

The problems we had with the paparazzi told us this was not going to happen in the rest of the world. Here, we were at home.

Looking around I finally knew what was missing. “Peter, where are the pets?”

“Pets?” Peter asked, “It’s kind of difficult caring for a dog or cat when you’re trapped indoors.”

“I guess that would be hard,” I nodded. I had complained about the lack of air circulation in our room, I couldn’t imagine that with the smell of dog or cat poop. There are minor differences, but people are still the same everywhere.

It was amazing how things just came up giving us more to be done. Yuri took us to the gathering area of the palace where people were setting up cameras for tomorrow’s press conference.

A man wearing a headset was speaking to someone I hoped was on the other end.

“Peter, Eric,” Yuri waved at this man who apparently enjoyed his meals. While not fat in his late thirties he had more pounds than he needed above his belt. He also had dark brown hair and when the light shone through it I saw a deep red. “This is Augustus. He does a lot of work on our network of WiFi and computer systems.”

Augustus bowed, “Your Highness.” He smiled, “I prefer Auggie if you don’t mind.”

Peter stuck his hand out and shook his hand, “Pleased to meet you, Auggie!”

I did the same thing in shaking his hand, “And we prefer Peter and Eric if you don’t mind.” I grinned. He wasn’t bad looking, but couldn’t hold a candle to Peter. I couldn’t help it and said, “I always wondered what the guys in the AV Club at school did after graduation.”

Saying it Makarovian or English I would get the same blank looks from guys that had no idea what I was talking about. Maybe you need reminding, too. Those Audio/Visual guys during Middle School, Junior High, or High School pushed carts of video players and televisions to classes to show a movie or presentation. Public schools couldn’t have one in every classroom because of the budget. They had to share. The male and female students who took them to the classrooms were often dismissed as geeks. I don’t think so. They knew more than how to switch it “on” and press “play.”

Taking us to where the “studio” was he even got Peter to prerecord what he was going to say. The studio was basically a closet. Maybe a little bigger, but no glass partition between Auggie and Peter.

I took Peter’s hand, “Just keep it light and casual.”

Peter nodded, “Right, light and casual.” He froze. “Wait! What channel if they’re looking at their television?”

Auggie laughed and gave Peter the website and channel.

Peter took a breath and sighed. “Surprise!” Peter said, “This more than a test to see if you’re receiving the signal. This Prince Pedro Ivanov. Tomorrow will be special. There will be a Press Conference given by my brother King Olek. That will be at two in the afternoon. Your Prince Eric tells me we rely too much on foreign countries to bring needed things to us. That includes information, entertainment, and education. We are beginning a broadcast to Makarovians in Makarovian. He says it’s a way of telling the world we are here.” He smiled at me and shrugged as if everyone would heat it when it was broadcasted. “I hadn’t thought of it, but he did. Now, I agree. Makarovia is no longer going to be overlooked. We are no longer going to be robbed and forced to hide. We are Makarovia. We are proud and we will be a country that has power and be a positive influence in this world. We are here and we are going nowhere but up. In the words of my favorite Southerner from the West,” Then he grinned and said in English. “We ain’t going nowhere!”

I had to bite my tongue to not laugh.

“King Olek will be addressing the world, so he will be speaking in English. We need to give other countries a chance to learn our language.” Peter gave the instruction on what channel to choose and what website with the promise more was coming. He signed off and looked at us. “Do you think I need to do it again?”

“No,” Auggie said smiling. “That was perfect.”

I walked to Peter pulling him to as I bent over to get to his seated position, “I never want to hear from the old Peter again.” I kissed him. “Auggie’s right. That was perfect. You’re a natural! Not an um, or pause anywhere. No stammer and no slang.” Then I stood up straight. “I should be offended.”

“Why!?” Peter’s eyes widened in surprise.

I nodded, “You tell me nothing happened, so why did you include Ted Dawe?”

“Ted Dawe!?” Peter blurted, “I never mentioned Ted!”

“You did, too.” I had to hold it together until I got the desired effect. “You said, my favorite Southerner from the West. I never said what you claimed, so it has to be him.” I saw a grin form on Peter’s face. “The number of Southerners at Northeastern is kind of limited. Unless there is another Southerner I don’t know about, he’s it.”

Peter blew a breath, “Aw,” he said shaking his head grinning, “You always do this to me.”

I gave his shoulder a soft punch, “And you always fall for it. That’s what makes you the perfect straight man!”

Peter got up from the chair and kissed me. “I love you.”

“I know,” I said with a happy bounce. “I love you.”

He put his arm around my shoulder as we were leaving. “I know.” Then he frowned as he thought, “Are you sure you’ve never said that to me or someone else and I was there?”

“Not even as a joke,” I said. “We speak Makarovian with each other. English if Mario’s there…”

“I swear I heard it,” Peter said. “It was your voice.”

“Maybe all your bouncing around in my head can explain it,” I stopped. “Then again, my Mother, Grandma, and our Mom would have fits! Ain’t going nowhere? Ain’t, meaning not, going nowhere. Does that mean we are going somewhere? Isn’t that a negative, negative?”

Peter laughed, “You work on that and let me know.”

We left Auggie telling him we’d make another recording for in the morning after we spoke with Olek, Helga, and Mom. Especially Mom. I told you I needed more impulse control.

I thought I was doing well as we sat for dinner.

“I’m telling you,” Yuri said happily. “Peter recorded a great portion of what will be heard tonight on the broadcast.”

I nodded, “I told him I don’t want to hear the old Peter again.”

Peter smiled, “He’s doing a great job holding something in. I know he’s about to burst.” It sounded a little smug. Then he gave me a light punch in the shoulder.

I smirked at Peter, “I was fine.” I muttered.

Peter gave a little shrug, “A little more pressure…” he made a sound of an explosion and his fingers he motioned down imitating debris.

“Fine!” I said a little sour, “He showed me the flowers in the Traffic Circle Park and he showed me those Queen Alla Fairy Lilies.”

Mom smiled at the memory, “Ah, yes. Dr. Gottfried Keller’s gift to me when your father married me.” She looked at Olek.

“Why don’t I remember him well?” Olek asked no one.

Mom laughed, “You were still a child when he got here. He was extremely smart.”

“I gathered that,” I said. “He got a flower that is a tropical and temperate zone flower to thrive up here in a very cold zone. How’d he do that?”

Mom took a moment as she thought, “Let think how to explain what he said. I speak English fine, but,” she took Mario’s hand, “Mi dispiace.” She said quickly. “Dr. Keller explained it in Russian. Geneticheskaya anomaliya? Mutatsiya?” You had to give Mom credit. She covered three languages in one breath!

My eyes grew. I knew they had because I could feel it. “He created a sport!?”

Mom brightened, “Yes! That’s it!”

There were a few faces that were confused at the table, but Olek voiced it, “A what!?”

I nodded, “A sport in biology is a mutation that makes an offspring drastically different from the parents.” I explained. “This doctor managed to cause a mutation for the purpose of being different.” I turned to Peter and shook my finger at him, “and I’ve known what a sport is since I was ten years old. I owe it to Charles Wallace from the book A Wrinkle in Time. I also know tesseracts, or the folding of space, to travel massives distances instantly thanks to Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Which, and Mrs. Who. It did a Hell of a lot better than any Warp Drive.” I turned to Boris on my other side. “I loved that book!” I turned to Peter again.

Peter was again smiling and asked, “Did I say anything?”

“Oh,” I reluctantly conceded jabbing that finger in his direction, “but you were thinking it,” I stated simply. “He managed to mutate a lily that should have died in the cold and yet it thrives! And it reproduces!”

“Now who’s reading whose mind?” Peter asked.

Mom nodded, “More and more come from them year after year.”

“I was also told he was working on creating a strain of grain and corn that could grow in Russia,” I added. “Did he do it?”

“He had many failures,” Mom said.

“I heard that, too,” I said nodding. “The problem has been Makarovia’s dependence on imports from other countries for food. One problem is the available fertile land to plant on.” Even I was having difficulty because I did feel like I was acting like I knew everything. I can assure you, I know I do not. As with Peter and the others, they had gotten used to seeing things a certain way. It had been a busy couple of decades and things had changed in Makarovia pretty damned quickly. Not one person at this table was simple or stupid. This particular method was working. It wasn’t broken, so fixing it just never occurred to them. “General Burke and General Hammond are helping us with the Greenhouses both on more level and rocky land and on mountain slopes…”

Peter piped in, “...and if we combine the two of increased land and sturdier plants with a longer growing season that will help with the yield,” Peter finished for me. He jutted his head in my direction. “I got that back in the park.”

I pointed at Peter, “Exactly.” I was getting charged up as I spoke. “Increased land, a longer growing season, and the heartier plant could make a big difference! Even hydroponics, but that’s later.” I tried to explain. “I know you would have thought of it yourselves, but…he can’t have done just the one plant. Are there other plants he had success with?”

Mom was a little puzzled, “It’s the only one he gave us. It was said he had done it within Russia.” She shrugged. “That was almost at the very end of the Soviet Government. A major reason was the economy.” She looked at Boris and Yuri. “I can’t say too much about things there, but there were occasional problems keeping the stores stocked with food items.”

“Were there lines for bread?” I asked.

She frowned, “Bread lines?” Pausing a minute and the nodded with a sad smile. “Oh, yes. The bread lines.” She gave a grudging nod. “There were shortages. In the 1970s we had a big one. Normally the food supplies were well rationed in the cities. We had it again in the 1990s.”

Boris nodded, “But that was pretty much true for everything you needed to purchase.”

Yuri grimaced, “Yes, like toilet paper.”

Mom chuckled a little, but nodded, “There were people that Russia sent down here. As with Dr. Keller, he was sent here to get him out of the way.” She shrugged slightly, “He was to turn things around for Russia. The leaders wanted him to have success but wanted a return for their investment. Crops that could grow in colder and harsher climates could make Russia very important to the world. A country that was dealing with starvation would become grateful allies.”

“Of course, it would,” I said with conviction.

Mom nodded, “It wasn’t necessarily due to the kindness of anyone.”

If you lived in that time, you know what the threat was. Those nasty, lying, thieving, pinko, commie bastards!

Please, let there have been a gasp with what I just told you. I am Scottish, but I’m also Russian as well as other nationalities. Not all of what we were told was true. Propaganda. Things were told on both sides of the Cold War to instill dislike and keep the distrust alive. The people in Russia weren’t the enemy. Just as the people in the United States weren’t the enemy. Just like us, they get up, dread going to work and pay bills. They stay alive and make the most of it. Yes, there are some evil people. Some. They were also on both sides of the Cold War.

What I’m going to say will make some people angry, but when has that ever stopped me? The principals and concepts of Communism were good.

String him up!! I knew he was a Red!!

No, I’m not. In an idealistic world, many philosophies are good. Even the philosophy of Nazis was good. On paper. When humans are entered, then there are problems. Big problems. So many things influence people from the way they are raised and the environment they were raised in. Sigmund Freud was almost right. He was a pioneer in Psychotherapy. He was also a drug addict. Cocaine. He saw the danger when one of his patients nearly died using Cocaine, so he “supposedly” gave it up about 1890.

Yes, that was another rabbit, but Mom was chasing hers when this one came out. We started with the Fairy Lilies of Dr. Gottfried Keller and went to the fall of Communism with some psychological rabbits. Hell, Karl Marx was born a century before the Nazis! Mein Kampf was Hitler’s book and Karl Marx was his prophet. Get, rabbit! Enough!

“Dr. Keller was sent to help us?” I asked.

Mom nodded just once, “That his papers said.” Her tone said clearly that she didn’t really believe that. “Mikhail Gorbachev was General Secretary of the Communist Party at the time. There was some restructuring.”

Yuri nodded, “Perestroika.”

“Why was he here?” I asked again.

“To hide him?” Mom shrugged. “He was…” she thought a moment, “a bit odd.” Then she went on, “I’ll try to give a better description...”

Then Olek’s eyes grew as he blurted, “Mysha!?”

Mom frowned, “I didn’t like that name then and I don’t like it now.” She wasn’t even angry at Olek because she smiled, too.

“The Mouse!?” I knew what Olek said and you had to smile. Just as Peter had dropped the little mouse he had down that girl’s blouse to prevent Olek from making a grievous mistake about a future queen. I got the feeling this was an example of Olek’s mischievous childhood. Now, I wondering where Peter got it. I hadn’t seen a mouse here.

“He was!” Olek grinned. “He was just above one hundred and fifty-two centimeters and maybe forty-five kilograms!” (That’s five feet and a hundred pounds for those of us who don’t use metric.) “And he had this,” now Olek had to think, “he would talk to himself.” Olek grinned bigger, “Now, I remember him!”

“He spoke out loud to himself?” Boris asked a little shocked.

Olek gave a reluctant nod, “Well, he mumbled to himself. Dad said he was consulting with himself.”

“A rapid speech?” I asked. “Pressured speech?”

Olek nodded again. “Yes. I could never understand him.”

“He never spoke to you?” I asked to be sure.

Olek snorted, “He didn’t like children. He communicated that very well.”

“Why? What do you think?” Peter asked and held his hand up, “And spare us the I’m not a Psychiatrist bit. You knew the symptoms to ask about.”

“Well,” I said, “I’m not.” Looking at Mom, “He was intelligent.”

“Extremely.” She said firmly. “More than a genius.”

“I can’t give you a diagnosis,” I smiled. “I’m hearing all sorts of possibilities from Bipolar Disorder combined with other brain chemistry issues. If I didn’t know better, I think he could be the sport. He sounds like Charles Wallace from A Wrinkle in Time. Extremely intelligent, small for his age and socially awkward.” I sighed. “But without all the metaphysical and psycho-social elements.” I looked at Olek. “Was he welcome here?”

“Certainly,” Olek said and bowed his head slightly. “I was a child when I gave him that name, but I remember him. I never called him that.”

“Where was his lab? Where did he live?” I asked. “Did he leave notes?”

“He died and his things were gone through,” Mom explained. “His lab equipment was put in storage.”

“It could be nothing,” I admitted, “but somehow he changed or added a genetic sequence to an existing plant. Not just a cell. It’s in the entire bulb and there have been many generations of that plant. I’ve read theories of killing one cell’s genetic material and new ones added with bacteria as the transport. That was a theory for the SunBean plant. One parent was a Sunflower and the other a bean plant.”

“Yesh!” Peter said, “What did it look like?”

“It resembles a little of both,” I remembered the odd plant at the Medical University. Not by me, but by students the Botanist and Geneticist Dr. Sallee. Dr. Sallee saw interest and let me see what they did.

“Why!?” Olek asked.

I shrugged, “To see if they could? They had other things like limons,” I said looked at them, “combined a lemon plant with a lime plant? Or the Tangerana. A tangerine and a banana?”

Now they were all looking at me strangely. Except for Grandma who was laughing to herself and nodding. “I know, you’re all wondering if he is suddenly ill, joking, or being tricked.” She shook her head, “That’s what I thought. Until he brought me one of those Tangeranas. It had the long body of a banana, the skin was smooth but you couldn’t peel it like a banana.” She chuckled, “He cut it and gave me a piece and it tasted a little like both.” Then she looked at me, “But you told me that like any hybrid it’s extremely rare for them to reproduce, the seeds didn’t germinate.”

“That’s right!” I said, but looking at their faces. “We weren’t trying to change people or animals, but if we could make one plant produce a nutritious fruit or vegetable that grows in harsher climates…” I shook my head. “Dr. Keller did it! How did he do it?”

Peter nodded with a sigh, “I guess we’ll be going through the storage.”

“Are you going to understand what he wrote?” Helga asked.

“I will say now,” I said. “I won’t. Most scientific minds develop a shorthand only they and maybe another understands.” I looked at Mom. “Did he work with anyone? A lab assistant?”

“No,” Mom shook her head.

I nodded, “Instead of writing what he did again and again, he probably used a single word or symbol.”

“But why did they send him here?” Olek asked.

“To keep him safe?” Mom asked. “We couldn’t fool all of the Russians. There were those who knew what we were good at and hiding treasure and people is one of them.” She motioned to Yuri and Boris. “They knew to come here.”

“So good at it,” I said, “we forget where we hid some of it.”

“You will recognize it when you see it,” Helga said with no doubt.

“But we have a busy couple of days,” Peter said to change the subject.

Mario was smiling in a big way. We had kept him in the conversation by speaking English. He knew what was going on.

Mom looked at him pleased, but puzzled, “What is it, mio caro?”

Hah! I knew those words! Mom just called him “dear.”

Mario glanced at Mom, “Being here is exciting!” He shook his head. “I’m happy to be included.”

Olek laughed, “And you’ll be in the middle of all of it!”