American dream (Американская мечта)

                                   Serge Nazar        

                                  American dream



                            A Russian in Los-Angeles
                     
                           An American in Moscow

                               A Russian on Miami
                                           

                               Stavropol  2011


   
                                            Dedicated to my wife Irina,
                                            my daughter Sinionella
                                            and my son Dima.
       

                ©Serge Nazar. “American dream”. 2011
           


                                      American dream
                             (A Russian in Los-Angeles)


    A Russian can have an American dream too, though he may not. All his life Oleg Tumanov dreamed of the free and beautiful life, advertised by Western radio stations and Hollywood films. He entered Moscow Institute of Foreign Languages, later renamed to Linguistic University, to become an interpreter and to go abroad, where he could just escape and ask for a political asylum. The plan was ruined by his elder brother, who graduated from the same Institute and escaped to the West before he got abroad, though he promised to wait. Oleg was blacklisted and denied access to foreigners or foreign jobs for all his life. So from that time on he could only dream of America and of the fall of communism. But dreams, supported by logical human desires, often come true. Communism was irrational and all Russians got tired of the ideological lie, that’s why it was finally abolished practically without any resistance from anybody by the authorities themselves. They also dreamed of a free and beautiful life, like in the West, and decided to change party cards to big money and become capitalists. Some American dream was common to all Russians of that generation and for some of them it soon became a reality, though for the rest it turned out to be fatal misery and a new ideological lie.
    Ordinary people got no money from the common state pie because authorities deceived everybody during the reforms and stole all common property by scum privatization, devaluation and skyrocketing prices. People lost all their money and even any hope for a better life. Former American dream changed to despair and hate both to the new rich and to Americans, who were considered to be the cause of the total destruction of the previous good life.  But Tumanov was an optimist by nature and didn’t ever give up his dream, even when there was no chance (freedom or money) to make it real. His dream developed and became stronger. It inspired him for …Now I skip details and come to the point – a Russian in Los-Angeles, or Hollywood, the American factory of dreams.



                                            Ninja

   Ole Tuman walked down the empty night street in the suburb of the City of Angels. But he saw no angels around and could rely only on himself. His sixth sense prompted him about some unidentified danger, hiding in the dark and lurking to catch him from behind as he passed by. He knew that it was not the right place for a walk, but life was dangerous for you anywhere, if you have something to loose. He had nothing and walked on.
    A police car flashed from the corner and suddenly stopped.
    - What are you doing here so late? – asked the policeman. – Show me your papers.
    Tuman silently obeyed.
    - Olaf Tuman? Where do you live?
    - I’m a newcomer, searching for a friend.
    - OK. Beware of robbers. You are provoking them here. Better be quick.
    - Thanks for your warning. I’m a lucky man and I hope to get through without problems.
    The car melted in the dark and he continued his walk. But the policeman was right. A group of suspicious blacks was waiting for him under the tree.
    - Come here! – shouted one of them.
    Tuman approached.
    - At this time and in this place you must pay taxes for passing.
    - How much? – wondered Tuman.
    - One hundred percent, - laughed the black bull.
    - And what are the taxes for the knife? -  Ole put his hand into the pocket.
    - I see, you are armed, – laughed the bull even louder. – Give it to me
    - It’s a gift. No taxes supposed.
    - It’s impolite to walk here with a knife without my permission.
   Tuman draw out the hand and showed the knife. It was simple but beautiful. And Tuman looked very quiet and confident, demonstrating no fear and intentions to surrender. The bull understood it at once and drew out a knife of his own. No one talked but all started to move, making a circle around them with self-conceited smiles. The bull was the first to strike, but the newcomer was the first to pierce him in the throat. Others had guns, Ole knew it as sure as his own name, but they had no time to use them. With swift circular dancing movements he cut their throats too. He was an alien to America, but not unfamiliar with its customs, thanks to Hollywood products on Russian TV. If Olaf is unwelcome, he will become Oleg again and settle the problem in his Asian manner, as a ninja, though without a sword, because of the detectors and attentive police. The knife was a substitute but very effective, due to his reflexes and technique.
    Ninjas hide their faces to leave no witnesses and evidence. But if the face is not hidden, they had to kill all, who saw their fight. That was the ancient rule, Oleg didn’t break. He wiped the knife with the dead man’s clothes, washed it in a fountain, burned the micro particles of blood on the blade with a lighter and went on. But still something was wrong; he felt it by his skin. Someone saw his actions and now followed him at distance. When Oleg clearly realized it, he stopped and turned back, looking carefully at the bushes and trees. Soon he found the spy. Some one was hiding behind a trunk. Oleg came closer and saw a girl, frightened to death but still curious as he saw it in her big shining eyes. She was black and mysterious as night. He didn’t understand why, but the impression was so strong that he wondered, what he should do. The rule dictated caution, but the sixth sense stopped him and he asked her with a smile:
   - Are you a black panther?  
   - Why do you think so?
   - You move like a wild cat in the jungle. I didn’t notice you at once. So you are a good hunter.
   - If you mean the organization, I’m not. But I like cats too.
   - Why do you think I like them?
   - You like me.
   - Sure?
   - Otherwise you would kill me immediately.
   - It’s never late, - laughed Oleg. – You are too clever to stay long alive.
   - They said the same.
   - Who?  
   - The guys you danced with. One day they would kill me for I saw too much and never obeyed. So you saved my life.
    - Really? You are trying to relax me and to convince that we may be friends. So that I’ll let you go. But I caught you spying. And that’s a problem.
    - I just liked you. You moved very beautifully like a dancer and blacks like dance.
    - Really? You are flirting with me. But I’m not the right man for your skill.
    - You can finish with me later, if you decide so, but now why not have a rest? Come on with me. I live alone.
    - Why?
    - I came to Los-Angeles to become an actress and now I work as a dancer in the night club “Omega”. And by the way I’m Helen.
    - I am Olaf, Ole. He really relaxed. That sounded and looked true. Besides he came here with the same idea and the girl reminded him of his own difficult fate. Russians can be compassionate in spite of all rules and combat reflexes. That was the mystery of a Slavic soul and left the Black Panther alive.
    At her home he cleaned the knife again with the gas flame, when she went out of the kitchen. Then they drank coffee, listened to music and talked about trifles. He had a British accent and she guessed he was not an American, but he didn’t explain her anything, letting her to imagine his story on her own.
    Finally, she relaxed too and even started to joke.
    - Would you sleep with me before killing?
    - Are you sexy?
    - As a dancer I am. Or I would earn nothing, and for cinema a virgin won’t do too.  In America virginity is not popular and is considered pride.
    - I know it from films but I don’t think it is right. Sex is not the meaning of life. There is no need for girls to hurry. Better spend time on something more useful, education, for example, or religion.  
    - That’s British morality, America is different and if you want to achieve success here, you must change.
    - So you insist that you are really sexy? I don’t see it in your eyes. Dance is dance and life is life. They are not the same. I think you are a virgin. You are too ambitious to surrender to feelings and desires.
    - How do you know it? – flushed the girl.
    - Intuition. So you can’t buy your life by sex with me. And I’ll have to kill you when you sleep.
    - You sense of humor is not American. You don’t fit our standards and you’ll loose. And you don’t sound like British, who are you in reality? Tell the truth.
    - I can find the job of a bodyguard. He must be ruthless. That’s Asian standards and I came from the East.
    - For a Russian you are too smooth, they are all awkward like bears.
    - You are right I’m no longer a Russian, that’s why I’m here, though I was. So you didn’t guess.
    - Really? – It was her turn now to be surprised. – I’m curious even more. Russians were our competitors and ordinary Americans don’t trust them even now, I mean immigrants.
    - I guess it, inertia exists everywhere and it’s natural. That’s why I’ve changed my name. In Russia I was Oleg.
    - I could hire you as a bodyguard too. I’m not rich but my job is dangerous because too many men want you after they see you dance and I often have troubles. How much do you need?
    - I need a place to live and I need to look like everybody around me.
    - OK. One of my rooms is your, I’ll buy all food and your dress. And pay you one thousand a month.
    - Not much, but I agree, before I find something else. And what’s you final decision about sex?
    - As you like. But it’s free, - she flushed again. – I sell my body only to spectators and that’s enough.
    - So you don’t insist.
    - No, that’s not a part of the deal. I just like you and I’m frank about it because you see it yourself. But I didn’t practice sex before and I’m not as brave about it as I look. So if you leave me as I am I would be grateful. If I really decide to start, I’ll tell you myself. Just come to you one night. At my age all girls do it, and why not try it with you?  
    - I hope I won’t stay long at your home. Now I have no job and no friends, but I can earn everything and I’ll do my best. And I want to part with you as a friend too.
    - OK. I’m no longer afraid and I want to go to bed. Happy dreams!
    - Good night.


                                        Hollywood

   Next morning Ole asked Helen about Hollywood. How she tried to get there and with what results. She made acquaintance with an actress in the night club, who helped her to show her dance to a producer.  The impression seemed favorable and he promised her to call later, when they needed a dancer for some film. Now she just waited and prayed about luck.
   - Can I show him how I fight? You saw me in action and can now recommend.
   - You want to become an actor too?
   - Are you alone so clever?
   - That’s why you left me alive. You needed my promotion.
   - I saw a kin soul and sympathized.
   She laughed, embraced him and kissed in the cheek. That was a great relief, because he was quite American and now she knew what to do. Success was the key to a Russian too. To make sure he won’t change his mind she called her acquaintance, Lulu, and arranged a meeting with the producer. He was on a vacation and had some time. Besides he needed some entertainment and loved fights.
  Lulu took them to the cinema boss in her car at the appointed time and Ole entered the house with a calm smile and pace of an experienced show man. The producer’s name was Mike Thompson and he introduced him to a calm smiling Japanese, instructor Ito. He offered a handshake, but Ole made a bow at a safe distance and continued to smile. Silence wasn’t long, the Japanese attacked and missed, because Ole turned on one leg and passed him by. Mike applauded, satisfied with the start. Ito repeated his attack and this time Ole met him with a heavy kick to the belly and slapped his ears with palms. That irritated the instructor and he uttered a furious cry, trying to beat the opponent with a quick series of various strikes on all levels. Ole blocked them with ease and kicked him to the face in a jump. Ito fell down and Mike stopped the duel.
       - Enough! To be continued in an hour in the studio with cameras. I’m not sure you will repeat it later and I don’t want to miss the cadres.
    Ito was really angry or looked so, because with Japanese you never know, what is his real face and what is a mask. Maybe, he was just trying to frighten Ole or playing a role in the film. Any way Mike was satisfied and promised to call later, when they needed a new unfamiliar fighter for some film. So Oleg had just to wait and pray.
    When Ole in the evening came with Helen to the night club Lulu met him with an enigmatic face.
    - Don’t tell here about the casting.
    - Why?
    - They will envy you the chance and besides nothing is sure. A promise is not a contract. I know it better than you. So don’t mention it anywhere.
    - OK. I’ll as mute as a fish.
    - But don’t be deaf and dump to their wishes. If you like to succeed here, listen and praise.
    The club was popular among actors and musicians. Helen introduced him to her friends, dancers and singers, barmen, waiters and guards. Then he sat down in the corner and started to watch the show and wait for Helen’s dance. In half an hour Lulu’s man left and she came to Ole with a glass of wine.
   - Not drinking? – sat she to the table.
   - And not smoking, - continued Ole.
   - You are a sportsman?
   - Sure. To keep fit I eat only babies and young girls. Like Helen and you.
   - Oh, you are dangerous. And I’m alone today. My boy is too busy, making money, so he has no time to spend it and I have to do it for him. Would you like to help?
   - Well, that’s alluring. Order me some fruits. I like pineapples and grapes.
   - Never miss your chances. They are seldom repeated.
   - Tell me about your acting. Is it difficult, interesting?
   - Ye, both. I’ve just started, only in two films, but I like it more than sex. It thrills me to the bones, when I see final results. I’m not a great success, but I’m noticed and have many proposals.
   - And does Helen have a chance too?
   - You see, she is too shy. People like cruelty and blood. Or sexy blonds like me. If you become merciless, you get your chance too.
   - I am usually, with some rare exceptions.
   - No exceptions. You didn’t smash Ito at once, though I think you could.
   - Why do you think so?
   - He was noisy and you were serene. You have reserves you don’t use.
   - It was a show. Mike wanted to enjoy it longer. A quick end would disappoint him. There would be nothing to cast.
   - That’s right. But I like decisive men, crashing their enemies with one blow.
   - Thanks for the advice. Next time I’ll act this way.  
    He hadn’t to wait very long. Lulu’s man unexpectedly returned and saw her flirting with Ole. Or he thought she was flirting, for she herself wasn’t conscious of it at all. He came to them and grabbed her by the hair.
   - A bitch!
   - What’s the problem? – rose to his feet Ole. – Calm down and leave her alone.
   - A bustard! – retorted the jealous (and drunken) money-maker.
   Ole slowly moved to him with a stone face and sharply knocked him to the chin. He relaxed the grip and waxed to the floor. Lulu kicked him lying and snatched Ole at the arm.
   - Come on! I want to go home.
   - I must wait for Helen.
   - She’ll finish only in three hours. By that time you’ll be back.
  In the car she explained that she hated men beating women and that with her lover everything was finished.
   - Let him swallow his money. I earn enough myself. I’ll find someone else, less jealous and more polite.
   - Sure, you will. Blondes are very popular here, especially with blue eyes.
   She laughed.
    - It’s a complement?
   In ten minute they were at her home. She didn’t give him a moment to think and draw him to her bedroom. Then she stripped off her clothes and pushed him to the bed.
  - I know that Helen is not sexy. But I am. And you are the right man for me. So show me the fire. I feel that you can. I liked you at the first glance.
  And he burned her to ashes like only a ninja could, nearly to death.


                                             Money      
 
   In America money is a symbol of manhood. If you can’t earn it sufficiently, you can’t count on female respect and love. Maybe, exceptions to this sad rule exist, but if you check them up, they’ll turn out to be a lie or a self-deceit. Lulu’ brain worked ridiculously – if Ole was very efficient in the bed, he must easily earn money too.
    - What can you do besides fighting?
    - In Russia I was a night guard.
    - How much did you earn there?
 He laughed.
    - In Russia you can’t become rich, if you try to earn. People become rich there by steeling only. That’s called democracy, reforms and is arranged on the state level.
    - Here if you have a strong character, you can have big money too. So you must become a millionaire.
    - Have any idea how?
    - No, but I’m sure you can. By the way I’m not a blonde, that’s only my image for Hollywood. Tough the eyes are really blue.
    - Now I earn as Helen’s bodyguard. She is afraid of men in the club, chasing her after her dance.
    - She told me. That’s good but you can’t make this way the money you need. After Helen you can protect someone rich but he won’t pay you millions too.
    - That’s why I don’t try. Helen for me now is enough.
    - I also like her and prefer to the rich women, I could make friends with. But you need a perspective. You must be ambitious, because you are a man. I would never love a looser, but you are not this type, your poverty is just Russian inertia. I must teach you to become American and I shall.
    - OK. I can write a film script about ninjas.
    - Wow! That’s great! Yes, it can give you real money and I’ll play in it too, a ninja’s lover.
    - You can! – laughed Ole. - If you are not jealous.
    - I am not, but why is it important?
   - In the East rich and powerful men prefer polygamy. A ninja can love two or three women at a time.
   - Ha-ha-ha! I’m glad you are not a ninja. I don’t want to share you with any foolish dirty bitch. I’ll scrabble at her eyes and tear her hair away. I’m not jealous, but I’m very possessive. Like all American women. That’s not an emotion but the brain.
   - And if I’m a ninja?
   - Oh. I see. You mean Helen. You like her and smell sex. She is inclined to start with you. That’s interesting for a Russian because she is a virgin. I read Russian writers and I know how Russian men feel about it. They are just curious as virgins themselves.
   - I’m not curious