Chapter 95: Carpe Diem

July 30, 1997, aboard an Aeroflot flight to Saint Petersburg, Russia

As we boarded our flight, Natalie had asked for permission to sit with me, and her parents had granted it. I wondered exactly what they thought, but there was no reasonable way to find out without creating potential problems for Natalie. Our seats were in front of her parents’ seats, which meant we’d be able to talk quietly without being overheard, due to the usual sound level in a cruising aircraft.

“When did you finally get back to the hotel last night?” she asked.

“Just after midnight. I’m sorry if you were waiting for me.”

“I figured you were going to be late. I checked about 11:00pm and then went to bed. I’m not upset.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“Why did you call me ‘Grasshopper’ the other night?”

“It’s from a TV show from the early 70s called Kung Fu. In it, Master Po called his young student ‘Grasshopper’. It’s something a teacher says to a student when they ask a question because the reference in the TV show was to the student asking the master a question about a grasshopper.”

“So it’s a show about karate?”

“It’s a show about philosophy. It’s trying to teach lessons similar to the ones you’ve asked me to teach you.”

“So how DO you prepare for things you don’t know much about?”

“Have you thought about that question?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s the answer?”

“I asked you because I didn’t know!”

“What makes you think I know?” I asked.

“But...”

“What did I say?”

“That we’d have to talk about it another time because it was late.”

“And that was because there isn’t a simple answer. In one sense, you can think about the things that will happen, and how you might respond to them, but you can’t know for sure how you will respond to something which has never happened before. But it’s complicated by the fact that you might let that lack of knowledge paralyze you and lead you to never do anything.”

“You’re confusing me!”

“Think about something you’ve never done, like driving a car. How do you prepare for that?”

“You take driver’s ed.”

“So you sit in a classroom and they tell you stuff and talk about what to expect and how to react and so on. But then what happens? You walk out, get in the car, and they tell you to drive. You’ve never driven, you’ve only ever talked about it. But they expect you to drive. And guess what, most people do OK. That said, you aren’t completely prepared because you haven’t actually encountered the issues, and you haven’t had to react. But you can think about what you might do.

“They start you out slow, perhaps in a parking lot, or something like that to get you used to turning the wheel and using the gas and brake pedals. As you become comfortable, they take you on quiet streets, then busier streets, then on the freeway. Each thing builds on the previous one. So even if you don’t know the exact thing that might happen, you learn ways to deal with things that do happen.”

“So, like with math where you learn to count, then add, then multiply, then learn geometry and algebra.”

“Yes, though driving isn’t nearly so predictable as math. The lesson is, that the way to solve a big problem or to answer a difficult question, is to break things down into simpler parts, and see if you can solve those parts. If not, you try to break those down further. And maybe you don’t have answers for everything, but you should have enough information to make reasoned decisions. And that’s your goal - to make reasoned decisions, though it’s not always possible.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes, like when you’re driving, you simply have to react to events which occur around you. And there are other things in life which are like that, where you’ll be driven by emotions. The more you’ve thought about things in advance, the less likely they are to get out of hand.”

“You’re talking about sex, right?”

“That’s one thing, for sure. But emotions can lead you to do things which you otherwise might not do. The tricky part is to allow yourself enough room for spontaneity without being out of control. And to properly evaluate the risk of the things you’re going to do. And to make plans in advance when you are going to do something which could lead you to make a huge mistake.”

“Like?”

“Let’s say you’re old enough to drink and you’re at a party. You drove yourself there and have to drive home. Should you drink?”

“Obviously not.”

“It’s obvious sitting here on a plane flying over Russia, but what if everyone is drinking and they want you to drink with them.”

“Peer pressure?”

“It can make you do things unless you are determined not to do them. So what do you do?”

“If you want to drink, have a ride. If you drive, you can’t drink.”

“Exactly. That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. Do your best not to put yourself in a difficult position because you failed to think about it in advance.”

“Thanks for answering the question.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What are we doing when we get to Saint Petersburg?”

“Checking into the hotel and then having dinner. The first game is tomorrow afternoon.”

“You don’t mind if I come talk to you tonight?”

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Cool.”

July 30, 1997, Saint Petersburg, Russia

“Hello, Stepa Rayevich!” Vera Olegovna Brantova called out when we walked into the arrivals hall at «Аэропорт Пулково» in Saint Petersburg. (Pulkovo Airport)

“Hi! How are you?”

“Wonderful! This is Jaako, my fiancé.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand.

“There are three people from the foreign ministry here for you,” she said. “I’ll be doing the tour of the Hermitage on Friday, and decided to come meet you at the airport so I could talk to you.”

“You remember Jesse Stepanovich, I’m sure. And these are my friends Paul, Mary, Mikey, Chris, Eileen, Natalie, and Nicole.”

“Of course I remember Jesse Stepanovich! Eugen is hoping to see him on your free day on Monday. We’d like to have him and a few friends join us for the day, if that’s OK.”

“Of course it is!”

The two men and one woman from the foreign ministry gathered everyone and walked with us to the baggage claim, and then directed us to a bus which would take us to the Oktyabrskaya Hotel. A renovation was underway, but the hotel was in full operation. It took some time to get everyone checked in, and by the time that was done, Dima and Vanya had arrived to host a dinner in the hotel ballroom.

“Do you remember being here, Jesse?” I asked.

“Yes. We had the dinner with my Army friends here when I was five. That was the time I met Eugen. But Larisa was here! She’s in Washington now!”

“I know. They promised to come visit in December. Are you going to invite anyone besides Mikey and Nicole for Monday?”

“Probably Jake and Tim.”

“Do you want me to talk to their parents?”

“Yes, please. Adults don’t always listen to me like my moms and aunts and you.”

“I know, but as you get older, they will. And the Sarcus listen to you.”

“I know. I just wish adults would stop treating me like a little kid! I’m eleven!”

“Yes, you are. And you keep showing them you are mature and responsible, and can be trusted, and more adults will treat you like the Sarcus. Not all of them, but more.”

“How come all the Russian adults treat me OK?”

“It’s the same as in Sweden, where people just think differently. We just have to keep working to show people that someone your age can be very mature and responsible.”

“I guess you don’t get to play with Vera Olegovna the way you did when I was five,” he smirked.

“No, I don’t, you little turkey!”

We went to sit at a table with the Sarcus and Heaths, and had a wonderful meal. After dinner, while everyone was having coffee or tea and dessert, I went to talk with Jake’s parents, who immediately agreed that he could go with Jesse. Tim’s parents took a long time to convince, and I had to enlist help from Mary Sarcu and Vanya to convince them to allow Tim to go without insisting that they go along.

“All set,” I said to Jesse when I returned to the table.

“Tim’s parents were being difficult?”

“Yes, but they eventually agreed. Vera Olegovna will come to the hotel on Monday morning at 7:00am then bring you all back in time for bed. I’m not sure what she has planned, but I’m sure you guys will have fun with Eugen and his friends.”

Later that evening, as she had said she intended to do, Natalie arrived at my room and I let her in. She kicked off her shoes, then sat on the couch, while I sat in a chair, as we had in Moscow.

“What’s the topic for tonight?” I asked.

She smiled, “Will you listen and not say anything until I’m done?”

“Yes,” I said, fully prepared for where I expected this conversation to lead.

“When you talked about learning to drive, about how you read about it and think about it, and then the time comes when you do it, even though you have no experience. But you left out the part that the driver’s ed instructor is with you in the car, giving you advice, and making sure you’re safe. Basically, they give instructions to you while you’re doing it, and that’s how you learn.

“Then I remembered what we’d talked about the first night, and how it was just like driver’s ed in that way. I had health class, though it wasn’t very good. Then you and I talked and I got way more information, kind of like the full driver’s ed course. But now, the only way to learn more is to do it, with someone who knows how to do it and who can teach, give me advice, make sure I’m safe, and help me learn. Will you take me to bed? And teach me?”

“Yes, I will. I want to ask a few questions before we do that, if it’s OK?”

“It is. What?”

“Is this the right time, and am I the right person? And if I promised I’d do that sometime in the future, would you wait?”

“Do you think I should? That I’m not old enough?”

“I did say ‘yes’,” I replied. “So yes, I think you’re old enough. Whether you should, well, what do you think my answer would be?”

“That it has to be up to me.”

“Yes. And if you’re asking ME if you should, are you absolutely sure you should?”

“Is it normal to be nervous?”

“Yes, though you seem to be pretty calm.”

Natalie laughed, “My heart is going like a million miles an hour right now and my stomach feels very strange.”

“Nerves,” I said.

I was sure it was also anticipation and building desire. And I suspected she knew that, at least subconsciously.

“But you think it might be better to wait?”

I smiled, “Break it down. And let me remind you, if you’re unsure, or can’t answer, there’s tomorrow, the following night, and so on, including after we go home.”

She shook her head, “The chance I could spend the night with you any time before I turn eighteen is basically zero. And I don’t want to just do it and leave. That feels wrong to me.”

“Have you thought about what happens in the morning? Or in a week? Or a month?”

“You mean because we can never be more than close friends?”

“That’s one issue, yes. And there’s the issue that you can only have one first time, and you can’t undo it after it’s done.”

“You think I might regret I did it?”

“That is possible, no matter how much you want to do it.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

“Am I?” I asked with a grin.

She was quiet for a moment, obviously thinking about the question.

“No, you aren’t. You’re making sure I’ve thought about it properly, and that I’m prepared for the consequences.”

“I am. There’s another issue you have to consider. We talked about it in a general way, but not a specific one.”

“Birth control and STDs?”

“Yes.”

Natalie smirked, “There were rubbers in the desk drawer in the hotel in Moscow. I took two right before we checked out. I have them in my pocket. You don’t have an STD, do you?”

“No, and I have a card which shows I was tested about a month ago. What about you?”

“I told you about it, but I can’t prove it.”

“Because of the context, I trust you. You didn’t know then that you wanted this, and had no reason to lie.”

“People lie?”

I nodded, “They do. I know of one case where the girl lied about being on the Pill because she wanted to get pregnant to try to trap the guy.”

“That’s evil!”

“We don’t always act rationally when we’re upset, and she was very upset.”

“Wait! That happened to you!”

I nodded, “It did.”

“Will you tell me what happened?”

“She got pregnant and her parents forced her to have an abortion.”

“Whoa! You were talking about something that happened to you when you were talking about being pressured. How old were you?”

“We were both sixteen.”

“Wow! That would have been really difficult for you both.”

“Yes, it would, but we wanted to have the baby.”

“I guess that’s why you need to be sure about birth control.”

“Actually, I had a vasectomy, so I can’t get you pregnant. But I wanted to make sure YOU had thought about it.”

“A test?”

“Call it being sure you had thought things through properly.”

“But you said ‘yes’ before you knew.”

“You don’t think I would have checked? And if you hadn’t been prepared, I’d have talked to you about being responsible. It wasn’t a ‘gotcha’ question that would make me change my answer, though it might have required a delay. Think about why talking about that is important.”

“Because you could get to a point where you really, really wanted to do it but had to stop. Or risk getting pregnant.”

“And how clearly do you think you might be thinking at that exact moment?”

She laughed softly, “Probably not very. My cousin told me that she was nervous, but it felt so good that she stopped even thinking about it.”

“Which is a big part of how you end up with so many unwanted pregnancies,” I said. “Sex is meant to feel good so that the species will propagate. Our desire for the pleasure drives us to do it.”

“Which is why you want to do it with me? I mean, not to make babies, but because it feels good?”

“Again, that’s part of it, but it’s also only possible because of the conversations we had.”

“Because you know I’m mature enough to do this.”

“Exactly.”

“So you think we should?”

“Would I have said ‘yes’ if I didn’t?”

“I don’t think so, but I guess it would be possible that you wanted to do it, even if you thought it wasn’t a good idea for me. But I don’t think you would ever do that.”

“And how do you know that?”

Her face lit up again, “Because I talked to you so much the last few days!”

“So?”

Natalie nodded, “I want you to take me to bed. I’m sure.”

“And what do you expect to happen?”

“I thought that was obvious!”

“Is it?”

“But aren’t you going to teach me?”

“Yes, but in driver’s ed, they teach you how to drive a car with an automatic transmission, the steering wheel on the left, and driving on the right side of the road. My car has a manual transmission and if we were in England, they’d be driving on the left with the steering wheel on the right. Not to mention there are motorcycles, trucks, race cars, and all kinds of other things you can drive.”

She laughed, “So like, what’s OK and what’s not OK?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t I just say ‘no’ if I don’t want to do something?”

“Absolutely. And that’s an important thing to remember. If you say ‘no’, that means ‘no’, and I’ll stop whatever it is right away, or not do whatever I suggested. May I ask if you’ve done any stuff before?”

“Just kissing.”

“May I kiss you?” I asked.

Natalie nodded and we both stood up. I held out my arms and she came to me. I pulled her close and our lips touched softly. I held her with my arms loosely around her and gently pressed my tongue between her slightly-parted lips. We French kissed softly for several minutes, with Natalie slowly pulling me more tightly to her. When our bodies were fully pressed together, I tightened my arms and savored her young, athletic body, currently clad in blue jeans and a t-shirt, something I would soon rectify.

I was in no rush, and Natalie didn’t seem to be either. We continued kissing for quite some time before I broke the kiss. I gently kissed Natalie’s neck, causing her to shiver, and then sucked gently on her earlobe, causing her to moan softly.

“That feels good,” she whispered.

Encouraged, I continued sucking on her earlobe, occasionally releasing it to plant soft kisses on her neck.

“I feel like I’m on fire and going to explode,” she whispered, squeezing her arms tight and pushing her hips forward.

I moved my lips back to hers, and we exchanged another soft French kiss, before I moved back to her neck and earlobe. Natalie began grinding against me, finding my hard shaft to rub against. She groaned softly and shuddered, and I was sure she’d had a small orgasm.