Makarovia! Yes, I Know Where That is! Sophomore Year - 98. The Past Shapes The Future: Pt 1

In this part of the world, we celebrate another year as a country.  Hot dogs, hamburgers, tater salad!  (That's Southern for Potato Salad.)  I had to translate for you, Daniel.  Remember?  You and your kawffee!  Our world's really did collide!  

The Past Shapes The Future Pt 1

On our way back to our room, I slowed down a moment. That near stop caused Peter to look at me quizzically.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked me.

“I didn’t take over,” I said as I pondered a moment. I looked into Peter’s eyes, “Did I?”

“Take over!?” Peter repeated questioning, “Why are you asking that?”

“Because it seems like I did,” I said. I waved back in the direction of Olek’s office. “I got started and couldn’t stop myself.”

Peter’s head shook once and that one eye narrowed, “What are you talking about!?”

“Everything we are about to do, I came up with!” I said. “Who do I think I am?” I waved again in Olek’s office direction, “Who am I to tell a KING what to do?”

Peter was getting better at giving false his expressions to fool me, “I’m sorry, I need to introduce King Olek to you.” He took my hand and turned to return to the office to do this.

I pulled back from Peter. “I know Olek.”

“You can’t know him if you think anybody could take anything from Olek,” Peter stated.

There was silence a few seconds between us and I felt the eye narrow. “Where is this coming from?” I asked having a difficult time believing what I heard. “Smartass, wiseass, and wisecracks are me. Not you.”

Peter’s folded arms across his chest now as he challenged, “Yeah? Says who? I’ve not seen any rule telling me it’s your exclusive domain and territory!”

I had to give it to him, so I nodded, “I have to watch you more closely now.” I grinned and kissed him lightly. “That was damned good.”

Peter smiled back, “I studied for two years at the feet of the Smartass Master. I was bound to pick up something.” He explained simply. “Who you are...” Peter said with the sound telling me he thought the question was too easy to miss the obvious answer. “You ARE Prince Eric Ivanov, Prince of Makarovia! Olek’s brother.” His index finger hit my chest with every syllable of that statement, “That’s who YOU are!”

“Who told a king this is what needs to be done and even how to do it!” I said back as loud. No fingers hammered the syllables for me. “And we’re doing it! Why?”

Peter shook his head, “Perhaps because it’s a good plan?” He suggested and got a smirking look, “You are still new to this family, so I’ll give you a little lesson about the Ivanovs.” He inched closer to me. We were close just walking down the corridor, but now he was so close I could feel the heat from his body. “We’re stubborn.”

I laughed, “Nooo!” I said as if I couldn’t NOT know that.

Peter nodded and said, “Yes! You remember how hard it was to get him to take a week off last year!” He pointed at me, “You had to practically emotionally blackmail him to go to relax! No one will take anything from Olek or Makarovia ever again!”

I knew what Peter was saying, “But no one offered their opinion…”

“Why would we?” Peter asked. “It is a well thought out plan!” He was now gesturing with his hands, “We have a goal.” He used both hands to show where that goal was, “You presented plans of events to get to that goal.” His right hand left the goal as he moved the hand close to the goal again, “There’s nothing to question about that.” Then he was back to what I asked him about. “No one can tell Olek what to do. With his mind made up, he’s hard to get to change his mind, which you know. He would have stopped you if it was a bad idea.”

I smiled at Peter, “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I sure do,” Peter kissed me. “I think it’s a brilliant idea.” He smiled as we stood in the middle of the corridor and ignored the people moving around us. We weren’t in the way due to the width of the corridor. Nor did anyone give a negative glance to us. There were even a few smiles at what they saw. The Makarovian stamp of approval?

Peter sighed, “A king’s job is to make decisions that will cause the people to prosper. Try as he will, he can’t be everywhere. He has advisors to help with that. One of the reasons for the decline of kings and queens is the size of the country. The smartest men and women have to rely on what others tell them. You have to have trust people to do that.” He chuckled. “In a way, we’re a lot like Romania. Olek deals in foreign matters, Mom does domestic issues mostly. I think they did, and do, a great job with that.” He bounced, “I will help with city planning.” He practically whispered, “Building a neighborhood so everyone has access to that gallon of milk and loaf of bread is critical.” He grinned, “You will be overseeing the extraction of the Uranium and processing the yellowcake safely.”

I nodded, “Uranium Oxide, U308 is radioactive, but yellowcake is not U308 yet,” I said. “The leaching…” I began to explain and Peter was doing the slowdown motion.

“I will listen, but I’ll only follow you so far,” He smiled at me. “That day you told Olek about the different grades of enrichment and did so with knowledge of a something he had just given you...you had us both almost speechless!” He held me out a little, “And you’re doing it again with me.”

“Olek didn’t want any of our ore to be used to make plutonium.” I began again. “Plutonium is made from uranium ore. His not wanting to ship the yellowcake is a smart move. U308 is bad enough and can be dangerous…”

Peter was now smiling even bigger, “And you ask why he listens to you? You’re as smart as that Dr. Wonderful of yours and Gottfried Keller! And you’re fun to be around!”

My reaction to that was uncertain, “I hope so.” I never used up talking before. It was big where people ended on an up-note making all statements sound like a question even if they weren’t asking a question. I wasn’t sure if what I said wasn’t a question. “If I showed you a picture of John Donkervoet, you’d be asking me to introduce you to him. He was gorgeous, but didn’t know that or care.” I waved back down the hall. “He was a male version of Helga, only it was just natural. Dr. Keller I believe had a mild case of autism.” I shrugged, “This is a guess as I’ve never met the man. The antisocial behaviors and supergenius level thinking, has me thinking he was a kind of savant…”

“That’s why we listen to you!” Peter declared loud and happily. “You’re smart!” His antics even got a few smiles and a giggle from a young woman on her way to do something for someone. At least we were entertaining some people. He threw his arm around my shoulder in a blossom buddy sort of way...and we were.

“I could be completely wrong,” I said.

“I’m telling you again,” Peter said kissing me on the temple as we started to walk. “The only one expecting perfection is you.”

There were lives at stake, so I was worried and cautious. That worry made sense to me.

In our rooms, I pulled up the Makarovian Website. It was a thing of beauty. When I first pulled any site about Makarovia, it was short and not very attractive. The pictures of the Ivanov family was ten years old. The few pictures of the towns around Makarovia were...well, it looked like of the towns and villages abandoned by the Superpower of the USSR. Because it was! Moscow, St. Petersburg, and the many towns and cities in the lower, far Western Russia survived better. Now, the pictures were brighter and more vibrant. Many of these were taken last summer by those three student photographers we brought to Makarovia. The beautiful scenery that surrounded by those mountains was inviting. The pictures of the Royal Family told everyone that some very attractive people lived here. Images of the many happy faces to how living here were rewarding. There were even some video clips of Makarovian nightlife. It showed bars and taverns, but many of the Grotto. It showed the dance club was always packed. Scenes of the many people here having a grand time, made you think you had to visit. Even that storybook quality was captured and came across the page. I wasn’t a tourist, and neither were others that came to these pictures. There were ways a person could access for editing. Peter and I were two of those people. Seeing Makarovian in a sort of Gothic font added a touch Old World to the pages. I have told you before, this part of Europe was Gothic and spooky. Vampires were here according to many writers. Dracula was just next door! I had said the fortress/palace wasn’t pretty on the outside. I was so very wrong. In the pictures where the fortress was in the background was impressive because of its size and purpose. The photos made at night would have you swear a vampire, ghost, werewolf, a witch was right around a stone wall corner. There were even three hundred and sixty-degree virtual tours you could take and see almost the entire palace. Even the bedrooms! Although, I would be guessing whose room belonged to anyone in particular. Elegantly furnished and only if you study the photos could you judge it was a room belonging to a man or woman. I will say there were no doilies or anything paisley. I LOATHE both. They are hideous! It’s not that I just didn’t care for any of that. Bring all the descriptive negative opinions together like abhor, despise, detest, and countless other words did you begin to scratch the surface of the emotional reaction I had. Why? I don’t know! If you really wanted to see a reaction from me, you take me a friend of Grandma’s. She had those lacy doily things on the backs of chairs and sofa that were covered with paisley patterns. The only trauma I had with Grandma’s friend was enduring her bad, bad taste. I quite literally got nauseated in that house and couldn’t go in for long! Let’s move on, or I’ll have to locate some Pepto-Bismol or take some Nexium. If I knew we were coming, I’d take Nexium before we went.

Most of the rooms in the palace for the family were pretty much the same. A large sitting area in front of a fireplace, desk for writing correspondences with the computer monitor on the desk, shelf after shelf of books. Did I live here? I never wanted to leave to much for someone to have to do for me. I don’t care what Peter said about giving them a reason to work here. That wasn’t me. The look made it hard to believe anyone lived in the room.

Why were we here? Oh, yeah. I pulled up my email and brought the clip up and listened. I was with Helga on this. The low volume and lack of any loud or angry words were bothersome. The words spoken were not profane, but very disrespectful human to human. Klaus was speaking to his king! There were many priests and other clergies who would agree with the immoral life we showed the world that Makarovia presented. For almost an hour I listened to the who was claiming superior morals and shame he felt that Olek should be feeling. It wasn’t just me listening, but Peter, too.

Peter was quietly raging as he listened. You couldn’t really tell just to look at him, but it was confirmed by the plastic pen he had cracked. I had to smile at that. At least it was a modern pen and not one of those elegant Mont Blanc fountain pens or any of the others. You paid a thousand bucks to write something!? It wouldn’t dare to clog or struggle to get started to write or someone would lose their job; possibly their life! This was a Bic or something. I put the garbage can below his hand without saying a word where he dropped the pen.

I downloaded the file and gave the time of the meeting. It would be proofed by whoever would put a finishing touch before posting it so everyone could read it. I mean everyone. Citizen or not. It would remain in the Makarovian Language, but everyone could hear it. No one is so above everything...I admit it. I wanted other Makarovians to have a hard time with this. Attacking a beloved figure like Olek would have reactions! I hoped those knew there was a meeting with Olek and Klaus Orban would spread what they knew and make the Orbans life more difficult. I would not condone violence. The threat could be enough, but he needed to be a little scared, damn it! That’s why I didn’t write the introduction. I was biased.

Checking with Peter first I opened the email page. I was keeping in touch with the friends we’d made. Henri, Luke, Earl, Gretchin...everyone on the Duchess. Pano, Barry, and Edger, too. I hated it when we would receive brag letters. Those annual letters people would create once and send it to everyone. How do I explain this? Parents were normally proud of their children. The Millers. Uncle Fred and Aunt Frankie were the worst. I liked them both very much. The titles of uncle and aunt were given because a child is not familiar enough to simply use their first name. They had two children, Chad was older by five years and Debbie. If you just went with what you read, Chad was a top athlete and well on his way to being a Rhodes Scholar and bound for the professional level sports. Debbie was a musical prodigy and a beauty queen. They walked on the water! Grandma and Grandpa were proud parents and grandparents but didn’t overdo it. Chad and Debbie were people, cursed in life to being blond. When I was four, Chad was sixteen. My opinion of the blondes out there wasn’t improved because of them. I wondered what they thought about my marrying an Ivanov. Or anyone from the past such as those guys in high school. You know who I’m talking about. We all had them. Bullies. Ronnie was ours. Grandpa instructed being smart with him my freshman year. He told me if I ever let one do what they said, I’d be bothered over and over. One thing I knew for certain, they hated attention called for what they were doing. Lunch money? In high school!? Answers demanded during tests? I don’t think so.

The demand for lunch money I wrote out detailed accounts of was to happen and posted the copies all over the school! Slipped them into lockers of other students and left on the desks of students and teachers. No name was used. As far as the cheating was concerned...I was commanded to let him see my answer! Of course we were ordered to not look or speak to anyone. I got up and moved desks stating I had to move, or those rules would be violated. After class, I explained, a little. I didn’t say who was trying to cheat. My grades were good enough knowing many of the answers. I also told the teacher BEFORE of the others if there was any retaliation. I asked they observe my condition and knew there was an angry Ukrainiannto strike back if anything happened to me.

Naturally, I had someone waiting for me after class. He was going to speak to me privately. Like that was going to happen. He was a big guy and yes, strongarming people was how he got what he wanted.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Ronnie or your friends,” I said loud and yanked my arm away. It attracted the attention in the hall. “I refuse you cheating off my test. I refuse to give you any money I use for getting anything at school! That won’t stop you from hurting me.” I threw my arms out. “So, do it now so everybody knows how tough you are!” I waved at him, “Everyone can see I can’t win. I wouldn’t stand a chance.” He backed a little, “Teachers know already because I told them about it. You could do it without breaking a sweat, but I say NO!” I never touched him. “No, Ronnie!”

A locker near us closed and Lisa, a very popular girl at school in her junior year, chuckled. Blonde. I was cursed with them. She smiled at me, and if I were straight would have meant more to me. “We need more like you here. The more that say no, means he will have to find something else to do.” She smiled at me and then looked at Ronnie. “I will remember everything said today.” She looked at her watch. “The date and time. I’m a witness.”

Don’t misunderstand anything. Being brave has little to do with being scared or not. While standing up to Ronnie I was terrified! He had a reputation he earned and deserved. He could easily strike back or do it later. I let enough people know what could happen so if it did, the first person anyone would think of was Ronnie! There were also Ronnie’s three friends that were always with him.

It was good fortune that Lisa was there. Like many things in the universe. Great forces attract many other things. Giant planets and stars attracted many others to circle them in orbit. It couldn’t have been better if I did plan it! An arm came and rested on Lisa’s shoulder. She was neither worried or surprised by this as it was planned. The arm was in an athletic letterman’s jacket. The dark royal blue school color with the white leather sleeves? He was a senior. He also was NOT a blond giving him more points on my score pad. Paul Hamilton. The only thing he missed was being the star quarterback. He was on the team and played varsity football, kept his grades up, and would have an easy life after high school and then college. His dark brown hair was kept neat and yes, to me, he was gorgeous!

But back to Lisa!

Behind Paul others gathered. Three other jocks and their girlfriends. Everybody knows the proper etiquette and social rules for high school, but they’ve been obeyed for a century, if not longer! Popular, good looking, he was older by a year or the same age.

“What’s going on?” Paul asked, but as everyone knew Ronnie was usually the cause of negative things at the school, so the question was primarily asked while looking at Ronnie.

“Not much,” Lisa sighed. “It seems Mr. Richards used a word seldom used by anyone on Ronnie.” She looked at Paul. “Eric said no. Ronnie just needs reminding what the word no means.”

Don’t be confusing the results here either. Getting the momentary approval of the “It” crowd changed things enough, but I wasn’t looking for a place at their lunch table or even a place in their cars. What would we have to talk about? Did I want to even try? I was the grandson of a world-famous ballet dancer from Russia. I wasn’t ashamed of what Grandma did, but it was hardly anything a teenage boy in the United States would brag about. How many of their grandparents danced the famous stages of the world for Presidents, Kings and famous people? Grandma even forgot many names of the famous people she knew and knew well. Anderson Cooper’s mother for example.

Oh, yeah. Ronnie. Lisa’s or Paul’s entourage sort of crowded in behind Paul and Lisa giving support. Not to me, but to Lisa who voiced support to me.

“I hope Ronnie doesn’t need...further explanation,” Paul said. The way he said it wasn’t even a veiled threat. Politely stated, but a threat.

It was a good thing! Ronnie didn’t bother me again. It was a decade and a half since then and I thought about those people now and then. Did they remember when the news broke about us I was there? It didn’t really matter, because I remembered them. I earned having my name called in the hall by this group of people. With one question about what I was after that. It wasn’t a threat when I was asked. I am sorry, but the female could usually tell when someone was in pursuit of them and knew how to use that. I wasn’t interested in any of them! They didn’t worry about me if they knew why or not I was gay. No one flirted with me. This was now a more one on one friendship. Lisa and I spoke in English Literature and Biology. Paul and I spoke as he waited for Lisa. There were other girlfriends that spoke to me. What saved me was going out for track and field. I made the varsity team my freshman year! Every fag had to know they could run away. I could do it pretty well. (That’s a joke. Kind of.) I liked to run. There weren’t enough hours in the day now, but I loved the cadence and the almost hypnotic trance I would go into. I did the runs, throwing, jumping, shot put, javelin...all of it. For me, the appeal was no competition against anyone directly. Accept for racing. That made me sort of a jock to them, I guess. The one that asked me some questions about my relationship with Lisa, Lisa’s best friend Samatha, “Sam” and Jackie over and over. He couldn’t understand why they liked me so much if I wasn’t cooking up something with them. It was Chuck. Yep, THE Chuck. My Chuck. Big and blond and Mr. Tackleman.

I will admit to feeling he was struggling with something. He was dating Jackie (Jacqulyn) off and on. Jackie was pretty! Red hair! I remembered more orange in her past, but I’m sure a bottle of something gave her that deep auburn color. This was before I had even gotten any more than any inspiration in the direction for medicine, but they were just...wrong. They didn’t belong together. She wanted to be in the group and he was the way in. He wasn’t an ugly guy at all. I got the feeling about a smart Viking. His family came from Scotland. But really the Vikings were a hundred kilometers away by water from Scotland. Vikings were in Norway and Denmark and they never rested and were always invading someone. Scotland was one, many times. I was confident I was right.

“Chuck,” I finally said stacking my books for my next class after lunch. “Lisa, Sam, nor Jackie have anything to worry about from me.” It was risky, but I said. “You, Paul, and Walt do need to worry.” I leaned closer to him. “They are the wrong gender for me. You aren’t.” I said watching him absorb what I said, I nodded and headed off to class. I just came out to Chuck!

(Was I insane?? The jury is still out debating about that. I might be.) He had the last name that said it all. Slaughter! It could have been me that got slaughtered! He was a wrecking ball on two feet! He cast shadows when he passed by and temperatures dropped. (Okay, that’s a little exaggerated, but just a little.) I also saw on his face a very sensitive man. I saw he was moved when reading poetry for class. The excuse about it being assigned only helped him do it more. No, I wasn’t sure of anything really. It was a good week later when we spoke again. We met on a Thursday evening when he asked for help with an upcoming literature assignment. HE asked ME. He stayed for the night. He apologized to my mother for falling asleep. I dismissed that with his parents knew where he was and my having a queen-sized bed. (I heard that! I said no jokes about a queen-sized bed! A single queen-sized bed had two queens that night. Ha, ha. Are ya happy now?) It made sense. We were doing the Canterbury Tales and there was a lot to that. He was far better at poetry than I was and I knew how to reprogram my mind for Old English. I remind you of Mel Gibson in Hamlet. He’s a good, GOOD actor. It only took a few minutes to forget how he said things and hear what he said. If you don’t understand what I’m saying, you probably don’t like Shakespeare.

That first night, it was an unspoken request. Could we touch each other? Did I want to? Hell, yes! We made a rule then and there. Was there anything we thought we might like, tell the other and with the other’s permission, do it. If one didn’t know what it was, time was given as it was explained.

He did it a few more times that year. I even showed up for a game on Friday night. Yeah, me at a football game. I liked contrasts and he was a big walking contrast. I didn’t see him as a big dumb jock anymore. He had depth! That was the contrast I loved. My analogy of the wrecking ball was absolutely true. With that helmet on when Paul, Walt, Chuck, and the others on the team stormed onto the field, I wouldn’t have easily recognized him. The sneer on his face and that growl said they weren’t human anymore. I knew at the very beginning it wouldn’t last for Chuck and me. There were rules at play here. Chuck almost never spoke to me on weekends. He was with Jackie and the others. Jackie may have known, because after a game on Friday night. He and the guys were doing their after game beer and pizza party. I was going to Asheville a few days as my mother was another opinion on her “condition.” Why call it a condition? They found cancer and she went with a close friend to Vancouver, British Colombia where there was some advanced treatments happening there. We had done papers on two classics. I handed him the floppy disk. “I added some notes about what you wrote about The Scarlet Letter and the not so pure Puritans. I also made some corrections on some of the works of DH Lawrence including The Rainbow.” I nervously leaned closer. “You KNOW how much I love poetry.” I chuckled, but I didn’t feel much like joking. What my mother had was serious, but...Grandpa had his cancer and died a couple of years prior. I missed him. I knew without asking Grandma missed him the most.

Jackie came up behind Chuck as he spoke to me. I saw her, Chuck did not.

“Just print them out and hand them in Wednesday,” I pointed to the disk. “If you see anything I missed…”

He knew what was happening, but I hadn’t shared it with all of them. He touched me on the shoulders and said with compassion, “She could respond well. You don’t know.”

Did I? I thought.

“We’re heading out to Lisa’s,” Jackie said touching Chuck’s arm. “I’m sure Eric will be welcome.”

Chuck didn’t exactly jerk his arm away, “I’d like to speak with my friend privately, please.”

I saw the surprise on her face and she tried to figure it out.

I shook my head, “Sorry, not tonight. I’ll be out of town next week.” I just handed the disk to Chuck. “Just hand it in?”

Chuck nodded, “Of course.”

He wanted to do more, but he simply hugged me, “Be careful.”

Jackie frowned as you could almost see she suspected went through her mind, which she dismissed as impossible.

Yes, I was in love with Chuck and I was pretty damned sure he was in love with me. That was when I knew we’d never work out as a couple. He was trapped! Like I thought Peter was, Chuck felt obligated to live the life he was expected to.

Wait a minute! How’d we get here? From Olek’s office back to High School and Chuck!? How did… This train of thought left the track to go where and why? Give me a minute or two to gather my thoughts. This was a huge rabbit!