Sonya was quiet after that. She felt like such a child now, hearing the dark implications of Dmitri’s life, wondering what horrible things he had seen and even done himself.
Working at a diner or a strip club and paying her water bill on time didn’t seem like such a burden at the moment.
Even losing her mom, as painful as that had been, it was something most people had to go through eventually. And Sonya was more or less an adult when her mom died. But the tragedies in Dmitri’s life were vast and incomprehensible.
Orphaned and imprisoned as a child? Sonya thought, shocked. But she didn’t know what she could say to soothe his pain, so she caressed him. Then she leaned down and kissed his neck, shoulders, back.
As she kissed a trail down his spine, Dmitri’s muscles rippled and he bucked like a bronco. He tossed her off effortlessly into the sand as he flipped to his back.
“That tickled!”
“You could have broken my neck like that,” she said, sitting in the sand and pouting.
“You’re fine. Come back over here.”
Sonya lay beside him again.
“Oh, I didn’t see this,” she said, pointing to a skull tattooed on his stomach, just below the eagle.
“Forget about that one.”
She started to ask why he wouldn’t talk about it, but when she saw the serious look on his face, she didn’t press him for an answer.
She had an idea what that skull might imply. Her eyes drifted toward the gun. She couldn’t even see it, just the silhouette of Dmitri’s clothes piled on the sand a few yards away.
But she it was there. She could almost feel its presence. And Dmitri knew what she was thinking.
“You should have a gun too, Sonya. It’s a good way to protect yourself.”
“Hmm. I don’t know. I’d be worried about accidents. I’ve never liked guns. Besides, I can protect myself in other ways. I took a self-defense course.”
“Oh? Like what? Karate?”
“Yeah, sort of. Some judo moves, stuff like that. But also a few dirty tricks.”
She raised one eyebrow after she said that.
“Dirty tricks?”
“Yep. If someone is trying to mug me or rape me, they’re gonna get it right in the nuts.”
“Ohhhhh.”
Dmitri flashed a pained expression and reached down to cover his balls.
“I’d better be a perfect gentleman then,” he said.
“Yeah. I guess you’re not in too much danger, though. You’re pretty sweet. Just watch it with those wise cracks or you might get this fist right in the testicles.”
Dmitri rolled away from Sonya and jumped up.
“Now I’m getting scared!” he said, laughing.
“Aw, I won’t punch your nuts. Come back.”
“No, I want to show you something.”
Sonya watched Dmitri’s nude silhouette as he walked toward his clothes.
“Come here,” he said.
She got up. For an instant, she worried about strolling around naked, but Dmitri didn’t seem concerned, and it was dark, with no one else around.
She walked toward him. She saw he had the gun in his hand. The metal glistened in the moonlight. Her heart pounded.
When she was by his side, she said, “That looks like the same type as the gun in the box of my mom’s letters.”
“Maybe. It’s a 9mm, a common gun. But every pistol probably looks the same to you. You should know how to use one, just in case. Your mother was smart to have one, even if she didn’t shoot it.”
“Okay. It doesn’t look too hard. You just pull the trigger, right?”
“First, you push the safety down. I always keep the safety on so I don’t blow my balls off when I’m carrying this thing in my pants.”
“Good idea. You might want to have kids one day,” she said, glancing down.
“Yes, that could be a method of birth control, though I think it’s easier to just use a condom. But stop joking. Pay attention. This is important.”
“Okay.”
“Next, you slide the top part back to cock it. It’s semi-automatic, so once it’s cocked, you can just keeping pulling the trigger until it’s out of bullets.”
“Cock… I’m starting to like guns more already.”
“You’re a naughty virgin, aren’t you? Well, I hope you’re learning something. This could save your life some day.”
“Wouldn’t it hurt my arm to fire it, I mean the kick from the gun?”
“Mmm, a little bit. But this is a good weapon for a woman. It doesn’t kick too hard, not like my .45. The kick from that gun could break your pretty little wrist.”
“You have more?”
“I have a few. But this is one of my favorites.”
“Are you a good shot?”
Dmitri smirked and looked around at the ground. He walked toward the water a few paces, bent down, and picked up a seashell about the size of his palm.
Without looking back at Sonya, he tossed the shell high into the air so it flew away from him. The white shell gleamed in the moonlight as it rose.
Bam!
It shattered into dust.
“Whoa. I guess you’ve had practice,” she said.
Dmitri shrugged his shoulders.
“Your turn,” he said, walking back toward Sonya.
“You want me to shoot this thing? I’ll hurt somebody.”
“Just keep it pointed at the ground until you’re ready to aim at your target.”
“What’s my target? Is the boat still out there?”
“Sadly, no. How about the trunk of that palm tree?”
“It’s so close, and a lot bigger than that shell…”
“You are a beginner. And it’s twenty feet away. That is perfect. When you are using a gun for protection, you'll likely be shooting something close, and about that wide. Try.”
Sonya raised the gun, holding it the same way Dmitri had, with one hand.
“No, sorry, I should have been a better example. Don’t shoot like me. I’ll show you,” he said.
He stepped behind her, reaching his long arms around her shoulders, taking her hands in his and bringing them together around the gun.
“Use your left arm to keep the gun steady. Also, it will help absorb some of the kick.”
“You’re sure it won't slam back into my face or something?”
“You will be fine. There, that is good form. Now point it so the sight is lined up with the tree trunk, then shoot.”
Dmitri stepped away. Sonya liked it better when his muscular chest had been pressed against her bare back and her hands were enveloped in his.
Now the gun felt cold and heavy. She didn’t want to shoot that tree. It seemed like a nice tree. But she knew Dmitri would insist.
So she pulled the trigger.
Bam!
“Did I hit it?”
“No. Close. Try again.”
Bam! Bam!
“Oh, two shots. You like it! But you missed. Go again.”
“How many bullets are there?”
“Ten. Keep going.”
Bam!
This time, the bullet hit the edge of the tree, sending wood dust into the air.
“Better. But you only made him mad. Now kill him.”
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!
Sonya emptied the gun into the trunk. She handed the weapon back to Dmitri with a proud smile.
“That would hurt worse than a karate chop to the balls,” Dmitri said. “Now let’s get dressed. I have a meeting.”
“So the date’s over? Hey dude, you haven’t even asked for my phone number yet. Does this eternal love stuff just last for the day?”
“That’s right, I don’t have your number. I keep running into you by accident. I’m lucky. Or maybe you’re lucky. Okay, give me your number and maybe I’ll call you sometime.”
Sonya couldn’t help laughing at his goofy humor, which was a lot funnier when heard in his Russian accent than just the words alone would’ve been.
“You big jerk. Pull out your phone and save my number.”
“Just tell me, I won’t forget.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
She gave him her number, wondering deep down if he would really remember it, that maybe he didn’t even want her number because he didn't plan to call her.
“You sure you can remember that?”
“Yes, it’s a trick I learned. It’s better this way, because nobody can steal someone’s phone number from me. They won’t get anything out of this head. It’s like an iron safe.”
“I don’t think anyone wants to steal my number. I’m not important. But hit me up sometime. I should use my cell more since it’s free.”
“Free? Why, are you dating somebody at AT&T?”
“No, it’s a work phone. Halim gave it to me, and he’s going to pay the bill too.”
Dmitri’s expression changed from one of playfulness to hatred, though he tried not to show it.
“What’s wrong? Are you jealous of Halim? He’s just my boss, and sort of my friend, nothing more.”
“Ha! Jealous of that little cockroach? Never. He is no competition for me.”
“You don’t like him? Then why were you going to meet him today?”
“I don’t like him, no, but don’t worry about that. Business is not always friendship. Let’s talk about something else. I never asked how old you are, milaya moya.”
“Miyala what?”
Dmitri laughed at her mispronunciation of the Russian word.
“It’s a term that a man says to a woman who is special to him. I don’t know how to translate it precisely. ‘My dear.’ Or maybe ‘my darling’.”
“Okay, that’ll work,” she said.
“So, you didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, I’m only 20. Can’t even drink yet, technically. So you broke the law giving me that vodka and wine. Guess it wasn’t the first time…”
“Ah, you did mention your age before. Forgive me for getting distracted today and forgetting.”
“You can’t remember a two-digit age, but you’ll remember my seven-digit phone number? Hmm…” she said with a half-frown.
Dmitri recited Sonya’s phone number and smirked.
“Okay, okay. Anyway, I’m young, I know.”
“Ha ha, yes. You think I am much older. People always think so.”
“No, I don’t mean that, not old. But older than me. A real adult, not just a kid pretending to be one.”
“I suppose I am a real adult. But how old do you think I am?”
“I don’t know. 29 maybe, or a little over 30?”
“Over 30? I’m 22. Not much older than you!”
“Really?”
“Yes. Do I look so old?”
“No,” Sonya said with a blush, not realizing that it might offend a guy to look older than he is, though Dmitri did not care.
“It’s just, you don’t seem like the guys I know from school, even the older guys who hang around at college parties. You’re like… a man.”