Purge by Sofi Oksanen Read Free Book Online

man.” “Yes, he is.”

    “’Cause I’ve never heard of an Estonian man who would go to Vladivostok to get a wife and then teach her Estonian.

    The world has certainly changed!”

    “Pasha is Russian Estonian.”

    “Pasha? Well, even so. I never heard of a Russian Estonian man who would go to Vladivostok to get a wife and then teach her Estonian. Is that what happened? Because normally what happens is that Russian Estonians speak Russian, and their wives start spitting out Russian just like they do. Sunflower seeds just flying out with every word.” “Pasha is a special kind of man.”

    “Well, of course! And aren’t you a lucky girl! Why did he go to Vladivostok to find a wife?”

    “He had a job there.”

    “A job?”

    “Yes, a job!”

    “’Cause normally they come here from Russia to work, not the other way around. So it was a question of work, was it?”

    “Pasha is a special kind of man.”

    “A real prince, from the sound of it! And he even took you to Canada on vacation.”

    “Actually, we got to know each other better in Canada. I had gone there to work as a waitress, like I said before, and then I ran into a man that I knew—Pasha.”

    “And then you got married, and he said that you didn’t have to work as a waitress anymore.”

    “Something like that.”

    “You could write a novel about your wonderful story.”

    “Could I?”

    “Pampering, vacations, cars. A lot of girls would stick around if they had a man like that.”

1991
Vladivostok, Russian federation

In the Wardrobe Is Grandmother’s Suitcase, and in the Suitcase Is Grandmother’s Quilted Coat

    Zara hid the things Oksanka had given her in the suitcase she had stored in the wardrobe, because she didn’t know what her mother would think of the whole thing. She wasn’t worried about her grandmother; she knew she wouldn’t tell her mother about what Oksanka had said. But Zara would have to mention Oksanka’s visit, because the women in the apartment commune would gossip about it in any case. They would want to know what gifts she had brought, and she’d have to give each of them a swallow of gin. Her mother would probably be happy about the gifts, too, but would she be happy about Zara getting a job in Germany? Would it help if Zara could tell her how many dollars she would be able to send home? If it were a whole lot of dollars? She would have to ask Oksanka tomorrow about how large a sum she should venture to promise. Maybe she should clear up some other things, too. Would she be able to save enough to live on for five years, so that she could go to college and graduate? Would she be able to save some money to send home, too? Or what if she just worked there for a little while, maybe half a year—would she manage to save enough in that amount of time?

    Zara put the stockings from Oksanka in the suitcase. If her mother saw them, she would sell them immediately, say that Zara didn’t need them.

    Grandmother stopped looking at the sky for a moment. “What’s in there?”

    Zara showed her the package. It was like a transparent plastic envelope with a shining, multicolored printed picture inside of a white-toothed woman and a long pair of legs. There was a little window in the package that you could see the stockings through. Grandmother turned the package over in her hands. Zara was opening it to show her the stockings, but Grandmother stopped her. No point in that. She would only spoil them with her rough hands. Was it even possible to darn such fine stockings?

    “Just stash them away,” Grandmother said, adding that silk stockings had been hard currency when she was young.

    Zara went back to the wardrobe and decided to put the stockings and the other things at the very bottom of the suitcase. She dragged the case out onto the floor and started to unpack it. They always had suitcases packed and ready in the wardrobe. One for her mother, one for her grandmother, one for Zara. They said it was in case