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The boat shook . They could feel it dip down as someone stepped onto the deck .
Anatol mouthed the words , “ don ’ t worry ,” but Nikki stared with lightless eyes , then quickly turned and stepped into some faded blue jeans . Slipping a white cotton blouse over her smooth breasts .
Feydor smiled as he entered the cabin . The big , bearded Russian shifted the large backpack hanging from his shoulder as he embraced Anatol in a bear hug . Ignoring Nikki , who stood in the soft light as sensual and singular as a cloud , he glanced at his Rolex .
“ Comrade , we must talk . But first , I have to pee .”
Nikki watched Feydor as he strode to the bathroom and closed the door . He made her feel unsafe . He was mean . Beneath his joviality there was an intense hunger , and deeper still was a core of cruelty . She looked at Anatol , her eyes dripping tears .
Anatol took her in his arms , whispering intently , “ I ’ m not leaving you . We ’ ll be together again , soon . I ’ ll give you some money and we will meet in Paris in one month ’ s time .”
His eyes were as truthful as anything Nikki knew . She threw her arms around his neck and was covering his face in kisses , when the bathroom door opened . Feydor came back into the room and sat at the teak table , turning to Nikki , he said , “ We will only be a minute , my dear .”
Anatol pried her arms from his neck and gestured for her to leave them . Without looking at either of them , she walked out onto the deck at the back of the boat .
Her mind was churning . Fear still gripped her , but he ’ d said they ’ d be together in a month . Why did he have to go , and why was he still so secretive ? What was he doing with Feydor ? It troubled her and she knew she had to press him , make him tell her everything . She needed a relationship that was based on reality , and honesty .
Silver moonlight burnished the dark water . The Himalayas looked like stairways to another world . “ In Paris . Together ,” she thought .
A boat full of armed soldiers spun around the lake , checking out the houseboats . On shore and in town there were military patrols everywhere . Acts of terror and insurrection came in waves . Sometimes an army jeep exploded , or was caught in an ambush . Temples were torched and mosques blown up .
The constant friction between the Muslims and Hindus reminded her of when she had stayed at the Petra hotel , just inside the Jaffa Gate in Jerusalem . Palestinians owned it , and Nikki had listened sympathetically to their tales of oppression . Nikki got along with everyone . She had told them she was a writer , and they had loaned her a typewriter to keep in her room .
Grandma Naomi had given Nikki the trip to Israel . Nikki had gotten into some trouble in Manhattan . Her grandmother thought a trip to Israel might help turn her life around and maybe spark the girl ’ s feelings about being Jewish .
Nikki hadn ’ t grown up in a religious household . Her mother , Rachel , was a hippie , or at least a free spirit . When Nikki was born , Rachel had been living in a faux commune near Santa Barbara , which was really just a mix of musicians , poets , pretty girls , drugs , the I-Ching , Tarot cards and gossamer costumes , a strange blend of hedonism , spiritualism , decadence and derelict dreams of grandeur that had marked much of the era known as the sixties and was mistaken by many to be a portent of revolutionary or evolutionary change .
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