Chapter 4

Isidora came running toward me eyes wide.

"It's unbelievable!"

"What? What's wrong honey?" I was confused.

"It's so big!"

"What? Is everything OK, are you alright?" Now I was even more confused.

"The toilet! It's so clean and so big. The paper is like cotton... no, like silk, and the attendant wasn't there. I used soap, towels, everything for free."

Now I understood. Isidora had just had her first experience with an American style public restroom. As I thought back on the contrast to public facilities in most of Eastern Europe, I could understand her surprise. Most places I'd experienced in the Caucasus were not much better than holes in the ground. Ogres who extorted pocket change for grudgingly dispensing single sheets of brownish waxy paper guarded them. Yes, now I understood her excitement.

"Are you sure we should be here? This place must be for very important people or government officials." Her eyes were still wide, but now there was concern on her face.

"No sweetheart, it's OK, we can be here." I assured her.

"It must be very expensive. Are you so rich?"

I laughed. By Georgian standards, McDonalds ¹ was a little pricey, but I still had nearly $50,000 worth of Mr. Marks' money. I figured we could afford a couple of Big Macs.

That morning, the thrills came one after the other for Isidora and I shared in her delight at each new discovery. The only fast food she had ever seen before was sold at fairs, items like sausage on a stick pedaled from a vendor's cart. The concept of ordering a meal and having it delivered in seconds was totally beyond her comprehension.

The menus boards were written in Georgian ², a language and an alphabet that neither Isidora nor I could read or understand. Fortunately, the pictures were universal, and the cashier spoke Russian. Since Isidora had no idea what any of the menu items were, I ordered for both of us. I didn't know what she might like and since I was hungry enough to eat anything, I ordered one or two of just about everything. When trays of hot food were shoved at us in just seconds, Isidora was incredulous.

"So fast? How did they know what we would want?"

The fact that she was speaking English (which had become our common language) was probably the only thing that kept the clerk from smirking. I just smiled and motioned for her to take one of the trays full of food.

Once we got to a table and began to eat, there were more surprises. Everything was new and exciting to her, the different foods, the different tastes and the different methods of preparation. Every bite was followed by an exclamation or question of some kind. Sometimes it was difficult for me to keep a straight face, but I loved her excitement and I loved being there with her as she made each new discovery. I was learning that although Isidora was a very smart young woman, she was a total naïf once beyond the small circle of her life in Chechnya. It would be fun educating her.

As we sat contentedly after a large and satisfying breakfast, Isidora and I considered our future plans. Ultimately, we'd get back to the States, but before we could do that, Isidora would need some kind of travel documents. While we arranged for the documents we'd need a place to stay, and now that our stomachs were full, the idea of a hot shower and a big bed was very appealing. We needed to find a hotel. Since I was spending Mr. Marks' money cost was no object. I quizzed the clerk at McDonalds and he recommended the Marriott Tblisi ³ as being nearby and very nice. Marriott sounded like home to me so I got directions.

As it turned out, the Marriott Tblisi is a five star hotel. When we rolled up in front and the doorman in red coat and top hat rushed out to greet us I thought Isidora was going to explode. She'd seen enough American TV to know what to expect, but she still had a hard time keeping her excitement under control. She was literally bouncing in her seat.

She hung on my arm, and as we entered the hotel lobby she gave her best try at looking worldly and sophisticated. Dressed in long trousers and a man's shirt with her eyes bugging out at the lush colonnaded interior, she didn't carry it off too well.

I decided to go whole hog and took a full luxury suite. The clerk spoke perfect English, but as we finished registering, he asked for our passports. It's standard practice in Eastern Europe for hotels to take and hold the travel documents of their visitors. Since Isidora had no passport or legitimate travel documents, I explained to him that we would be visiting the American embassy very soon and that we would both need our passports. He didn't buy the idea until I slipped him one of my remaining 5000-Ruble notes. The bellman was all smiles as he led us to our room.

Even I was surprised at the luxuriousness of the suite. It was probably larger than all the rooms of Salma's house combined and was furnished with very expensive taste. Once the bellman left us alone, Isidora was a whirlwind of excitement. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"Oh, I can not believe you are so rich. You are my pretty American millionaire."

"Handsome, Isidora." I reminded her. "And I'm not a millionaire."

"Yes, I meant handsome." She shouted over her shoulder as she dashed off to explore the suite.

Within seconds there was a squeal from the bathroom.

"It's even better than the McDonalds! They have a tub and a shower. Look, there are even towels and robes!"

"Why don't we try them out?" I suggested. A hot shower and maybe a nice nap snuggling with Isidora in a fresh king-sized bed sounded like a good idea to me.

"Can we? Now, in the morning?" She asked.

I grinned. "The only thing stopping us is the clothes you're wearing, and I'm just about to rip them off of you." I came toward her with a menacing look.

She laughed, then squealed, and then darted away. I chased her for one lap around the suite, then caught her and deposited her onto the king-sized bed. She was a little breathless, but she gave me a kiss. Her eyes were bright and there was a huge smile on her face.

"I'm so happy."

"Me too." I responded. "But I'll be happier once we get into a nice warm shower."

Getting undressed was just as much fun as it always had been with Isidora, and even as well-fed and tired as I was, she still managed to work me up into a pretty serious state of excitement even before I slid off her little-girl cotton panties. Not wanting to risk losing total control, I quickly took her by the hand and led her naked toward the shower.

That water felt good, but it felt even better to be standing there getting all warm, wet and slippery with Isidora. The newness of it for her made it even more exciting for me. Warm showers were a luxury for Isidora, and a warm shower with a man was something she'd never even dared to fantasize about.

I took the soap and began to wash her gently with my hands. I started at her neck and worked down every inch of her body to her toes, making sure to pay lots of attention to all the most sensitive spots. At first, she sighed contentedly, but by the time I had worked all the way down her body and back up to her neck, she was giving little jumps of excitement. Then, being a quick learner, she took the soap from me and proceeded to duplicate my effort. Just as I had, she also paid careful attention to my most sensitive spots. She was a fast learner!

Once the soaping was done, the kissing started. Isidora had progressed from rookie to master very quickly, and it was only a minute or two before she had me ready to burst. When I could contain myself no longer, I broke our kiss and turned her to face the shower wall standing close behind her. She turned her head to me with a questioning look in her eyes and protested with disappointment in her voice.

"Why won't you kiss me? What are you doing?"

When I made my intentions more clear, she responded.

"Oh!" and then "Ooooooh." and then "Ooooooooooooooh." Then she placed her hands on the shower wall and thrust her hips back toward me.

Neither of us lasted too long, but within minutes, Isidora was ready to try her newly discovered position once more. Unfortunately, the warmth of the shower, and the satisfaction of making love to Isidora had completely drained me. I begged for mercy. I was ready to sleep. Isidora was gracious but extracted a promise for an encore performance soon in the future.

--We quickly dried each other. Isidora gave her hair a quick rub, and wrapped it in a towel. Then we dove under the crisp, sweet smelling sheets of the huge bed. I wrapped Isidora in my arms, took one little kiss, and then I was gone into dreamland.

I awoke early in the afternoon and unwrapped myself from Isidora. The spring sunlight was filtering through the window to make a gentle halo around her as she slept. She must have discarded the towel and now her long dark hair was flowing in disarray down her pillow. I leaned on one elbow just watching her sleep, thinking to myself how truly beautiful she was. I dreamed on for a minute or two, but then she sensed that I was awake and slowly opened her eyes. She gave me a radiant smile and reached to pull me to her. We kissed and caressed gently and with intimacy. At that instant, I was happier than I could ever remember.

"Can we stay here forever?" Isidora asked dreamily.

"Sure, why not. We'll have room service bring us our food, and we'll spend half of every day in the shower, and half in this bed."

"Would you get tired of me?" She teased.

"Never."

She kissed me again, and this time it was more demanding. She was claiming the promise that I'd made earlier. Her unique power to excite me made keeping my part of the bargain easy. We made very slow very gentle love for a long time that afternoon.

Later, I was on the telephone to the U.S. Embassy. I wanted to learn how to get legitimate travel documents for Isidora. If worst came to worst, we could buy forged documents and sneak into the U.S., but in the long run, it would be better if we could do things legally. The conversation was an eye opener. The normal requirements for entry into the U.S. are mind-boggling ⁴, even for a person who has valid ID and travel documents. After fifteen minutes of back and forth, and more and more confusion, I asked if I could make an appointment to talk face to face with someone in the consular section of the embassy. At first I was told that it would take weeks to schedule an appointment, but after some argument, I convinced the voice at the other end of the phone that our situation was a serious one. We were scheduled for an interview on the next day, but only after being told over and over that no one ever got appointments that quickly.

Margaret, the woman who met us at the consular section was courteous but business-like. She shook both our hands and escorted us to a private room where we could talk. I didn't see any sense in holding back, so I told her the whole story, everything, right from the beginning. She took notes as I talked and when I finished, she shook her head.

"Mr. Lyons, don't misinterpret what I'm about to say."

I looked at her in puzzlement, and she continued.

"If your story is accurate, I think you've done some brave and noble things, but I also think you've taken some foolish risks and you may have acted in ways that could end up causing Isidora more harm than good."

I tried to be polite, but my temper was starting to rise. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well, for one thing, Isidora is still a minor. It's possible that you could be charged with statutory rape or even kidnapping. If that happened, Georgian officials would send her back to Russia, and maybe you to."

My voice was a little louder than I'd intended. "Kidnapping? They're the ones who kidnapped me, they're the ones who treated Isidora like a slave." I wanted to say that her brothers were the ones who had raped her, but I couldn't bear to bring that up again.

Margaret was still calm. "Look, I'm on your side. I'm just trying to point out the danger of your situation."

At this Isidora stepped in. "I'm not a minor. I'm eighteen. My birthday was six weeks ago and the age for sex in Russia is sixteen. Trent never did anything wrong with me."

I was surprised that Isidora knew about the age of consent, but, after all, she's a smart girl. I felt a little foolish for never asking her birthday and not knowing her precise age.

Margaret was taken aback, but she continued. "Be that as it may, your situation is still a difficult one. Getting a visa for an immigrant alien into the U.S. can be a time-consuming and complicated process, even in the best of circumstances."

"How about political asylum?" I suggested.

Margaret smiled condescendingly. "Mr. Lyons, political asylum is granted under very restrictive circumstances. Isidora would have to be in danger of persecution for race, religious belief, nationality or political opinion. Having a bad-tempered grandfather hardly applies, even if you could prove he had threatened her life, and you can't"

"Well, what other options are there. I want to go back to the U.S., and I want to take Isidora with me legally." I was getting frustrated.

"Actually, your options here are very limited. Normally, at this embassy, we won't even process visa applications for persons who aren't citizens of Georgia. To get a legal visa, for Isidora you'd have to go through the embassy in Moscow."

"Moscow?" I was shouting now. "That's insane. She doesn't even have the documents to be in Georgia, and now you want us to go to Moscow, halfway across the continent?"

"Look Mr. Lyons, I know this all sounds foolish, but there are rules and regulations that must be followed. I don't have any control over the process, I just follow orders."

I turned to Isidora who was trying to make herself tiny in the corner. "Come on, let's get out of here."

As Isidora started to rise, Margaret had another suggestion. "You know, if Isidora were a member of your immediate family, things could be slightly less complicated."

"Immediate family?" I asked.

"Yes, a spouse for example." Margaret looked directly at Isidora as she said this.

I looked at Isidora and she looked at me. Almost at the same time, we both nodded our heads.

"OK, we could do that." When I said this, Isidora bounced a foot off her seat and grew a smile.

"Even if Isidora were your spouse, it still wouldn't be easy." Margaret continued.

"First you'd have to file a petition, and we'd need a complete biographical information form from you Trent. Then, we'd need the marriage certificate, and of course, we'd need both your passports. If you're married in Georgia, Georgian officials may be willing to bend the rules and issue a passport for Isidora. We'd also need an official and notarized copy of Isidora's birth certificate, but you might be able to get that by mail."

I cut Margaret off. It was getting crazy. "So you're saying that after we do get married and IF the Georgians will issue Isidora a passport, then we've still got to get a copy of her birth certificate from Russia?"

"Well, actually, you'd probably have to get a copy of her birth certificate first, before you could be married in Georgia or get a Georgian passport."

I was losing my temper again. "Ma'am, I hate to point this out again, but if we try to get a copy of Isidora's birth certificate from Russia, we could end up dead."

"So you say, but I'm just telling you what you need to do. I don't make the rules. Oh, and you'd need photos too, but if you had all that, then you could file your petition and maybe get an interview for a visa."

"Interview? All that shit just to get an interview?" I was roaring now, but Margaret continued on in a cool voice.

"Well, actually, there's the interview, and then we'd need a copy of Isidora's police certificate translated to English for everywhere she's lived for longer than six months and, of course, we'd need copies of your Federal Income Tax Returns for the last three years and a letter from your current employer."

I was livid now. "Can you hear yourself talking? Do you hear what you're saying? Isidora and I left Russia in fear for our lives. She has no passport, she has no birth certificate, and she has no way to get a copy of her police records. If we try to get those documents, chances are we'd both be murdered."

"Well." Margaret sniffed. "I'm only telling you the regulations. No need to get angry with me."

I took Isidora's hand. I was angry and I pulled her toward the door. "Let's get out of here"

As the door shut behind us I heard Margaret's last suggestion. "You could always try the UN High Commissioner for Refugees. There's an office here in Tbilisi."

As we walked back down the street to the hotel, Isidora was confused. She thought that for some reason I was upset with her. Her voice was very low, almost a whisper.

"Trent, I'm sorry. I don't want to be so much trouble to you."

I felt like crap when she said that. I'd lost my temper at the mindless bureaucracy and Isidora hadn't understood. I didn't like to hurt her, even by accident.

"Sweetheart, don't be sorry. You did nothing wrong. I just lost my temper because of the stupid rules and regulations. It's nothing to do with you."

I thought for a minute and then I had an idea.

"I'll make it up to you. It's Friday, all the clubs will be open. Do you like to dance?"

She still wasn't smiling. "I don't know how to dance, and I have no clothes for dancing."

Isidora was now wearing the same plain skirt, and blouse she had worn when she stepped of the bus in Vladikavkaz almost a week ago.

"No problem. Remember, I'm a rich American millionaire. We can go shopping this afternoon. As far as dancing goes, I don't know how to dance either. We'll learn together."

Now Isidora did smile.

Tbilisi isn't much of a fashion center, but after an inquiry with the hotel concierge we were able to identify a few shops that would suit our purposes. I'm not much at shopping for ladies' clothing, and Isidora was hesitant about just what she'd need, so I took an idea from a movie I'd seen. I asked the concierge if he might not be able to arrange for someone to act as Isidora's personal shopping advisor. A few bills changed hands, and within minutes a nice young lady, maybe five years older than Isidora appeared. I exchanged some of my remaining rubles for Georgian Lari, handed Isidora a wad of bills and sent her and her new companion chattering and giggling on their way. They'd have about three hours before the shops closed, and that would give me plenty of time to do what shopping I wanted to do.

As it turns out, Georgians dress pretty casually for dining and dancing. I found everything I needed in the hotel men's shop. I thought about charging it to Mr. Marks' American Express card, but didn't. No use risking that he might track us by the credit card charges, and we might be in the hotel for a while. Finally, I took a short walk to the shop the concierge had recommended and used the remainder of my Russian rubles for my final purchase. When Isidora made her appearance back at our suite later that afternoon, she was floating on her own little cloud. Shopping seems to do that to all women regardless of age or nationality. As we left our suite that evening we were both properly attired in Georgian style for a night on the town. It was the first time I'd seen Isidora dressed up. She looked very good and maybe a little older: perhaps almost nineteen.

We took a taxi to the restaurant the concierge had recommended. By this time Isidora had become a little more used to the finer things associated with a Western lifestyle, so, as the maitre d' showed us to our table, her eyes merely widened instead of bugging completely out. It was a nice restaurant, with waiters hovering around, lots of glasses and silver and a very fancy menu in four languages. Georgian cuisine is noted mostly for its abundance of dishes. We relied on the recommendations of the waiter, and were served what seemed an endless sequence of foods, all apparently seasoned with walnuts in one form or another. As we sat with full stomachs sipping some kind of peppermint after dinner drink I had some things I wanted to say to Isidora.

"Isidora, things that the lady at the embassy said today have caused me to think. I know my presence in your life hasn't made things easy for you. I've caused you some sadness, and I'm truly sorry for that."

Isidora looked at me sympathetically and took my hand as if to tell me I was forgiven, but before she could talk I continued.

"We started our relationship under very difficult circumstances, but I've come to respect and admire you. You've nursed me when I was sick and you've defended me with your life. We've lived through a lot of difficulty during the time we've been together, and you've always stuck by me. I've come to love you more than I ever thought it possible to love anyone. I can't see going through my life without you as my companion. Will you marry me?" I reached into my pocked and extracted the ring ⁵ I had purchased that afternoon and offered it to her.

Isidora was in tears by this point but she managed to sniffle out her answer.

"I'd die if I couldn't always be with you. Of course I'll marry you." She took the ring and slipped it on her finger.

With that, the champagne arrived and we toasted our engagement. It was the last drink I bought that night. It seemed as if every Georgian in the restaurant wanted to toast the newly engaged couple, and every man wanted to dance with the beautiful Isidora. For a girl who couldn't dance, she was very popular and a quick learner... as usual. It was a night neither of us will ever forget.

By the time Isidora and I arrived back at our hotel, it was very late, and we were both feeling no pain. Isidora had fallen asleep in the cab and I carried her to our suite, undressed her and placed her in our bed. As I looked down on her sleeping form, I considered how lucky I was. She was smart, beautiful, and courageous. It seemed that whenever we were together, even the bad times were good. I thought all these thoughts as I climbed into bed beside her and closed my eyes.