Chapter 21 Not an Egyptian #2
With the house lights up bright, Simon and Sol were straining to overhear the conversation of the men at the nearby tables, but with everyone talking—and there was still some music playing—it was hard to hear what language (or languages) the men were speaking.
James Winslow wouldn’t have known the difference between Turkish, Kurdish, and Arabic—not that he’d distinctly heard what anyone was speaking.
“If the dancer speaks to us, we should speak in English to her,” Zander suddenly said.
“That would be better than speaking German, with our respective ‘foreign’ accents,” Sergei told his teammates. At this moment, even Jimmy was thinking that the Soviets sounded cagey; they sounded more like KGB operatives than med students.
Simon had noticed some women in the audience, but not many. “There are even a few women who look your age, Jim,” Simon told him.
“Most of the women don’t look Turkish,” Sol was whispering when the belly dancer finally made her reappearance.
In her dancing costume, she’d never looked like a stripteaser.
There were long frills on her unrevealing brassiere; she’d shown no cleavage.
She’d worn a long skirt with a slash and only rarely flashed a bare thigh.
Black stockings had covered her knees. And now she’d changed her clothes to mingle. She was dressed like a businesswoman.
It would be necessary, later, for the Israelis and the Soviets to explain to Jimmy that Turkish women were not required to wear hijabs or headscarves in public.
The belly dancer wore no hijab or headscarf—just a long-sleeved, loose-fitting blouse with trousers and a jacket (like a man’s suit jacket).
The severe way the woman dressed made her look somewhat masculine.
Moving among the tables, the dancer was as comfortable speaking with the women as she seemed with the men.
When she approached the wrestlers’ table, she ignored Sergei but smiled at Zander. “We’ll speak English, if you can, because our friend is an American,” Zander told her.
“I speak English,” the belly dancer said, smiling at Sol.
“He’s the American,” Sol said, pointing at Jimmy.
The belly dancer didn’t hesitate to sit in Jimmy’s lap. The way she put her hands on Jimmy’s shoulders, it was unclear if she intended to hug him or she meant to prevent him from hugging her. There was polite applause, then silence. “If you know what you want to be, tell me,” the dancer said.
“I’m writing my first novel, or I’m trying to. I’m not really a writer yet, but I want to be one,” Jimmy told her.
The belly dancer pulled him close to her, whispering in his ear. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m not an Egyptian and I’ll never be one,” she whispered.
When she’d pushed him away from her, Jimmy realized the crowd was waiting for him to say something.
“Don’t worry—I won’t tell anyone,” Jimmy promised the belly dancer.
Everyone laughed; the older woman kissed him on his forehead.
Then the belly dancer was back onstage, bowing again.
When she was once more backstage, and everyone was leaving, the Soviets confided to Jimmy and the Israeli wrestlers that the evening always ended this way.
When the dancer sat in someone’s lap, she always whispered in his ear.
“And the guy always says he won’t tell anyone! ” Sergei declared.
“What did she whisper, Jim?” Zander asked his workout partner.
“She asked me not to tell anyone,” Jimmy answered seriously.
“Come on, Jim—tell us what she whispered!” Simon told him.
“The whispering is part of her act, Jim—you can tell us,” Sol said.
But James Winslow wouldn’t even tell his teammates what the belly dancer whispered.
Jimmy was sincere about writing his first novel, or trying to; he was sincere about not being a writer yet, but wanting to be one.
The dancer had sounded sincere to him. James Winslow would not betray her confidence, even if what she’d whispered was only part of her act.
“A secret is still a secret,” Jimmy insisted to his teammates.
It wasn’t so late that the Kaffeehaus Nachtmusik had closed.
The teammates had a few more beers before last call.
The wrestlers teased Jimmy about his fidelity to the belly dancer’s secret.
“If a guy can keep a secret, a woman feels safe sleeping with him,” Dagmar told the wrestlers.
Over the Christmas holiday, Jimmy and Walter took turns bringing Hard Rain home with them, and Jimmy just kept writing and wrestling.
There was a Christmas card from Claude, who asked if he could write Chantal.
Jimmy had called Chantal and asked her if she wanted to hear from Claude.
Irmgard had explained to Jimmy how he could reverse the charges; he could call Chantal collect.
“It’s called person-to-person collect, Jimmy,” Irmgard told him.
Chantal wanted Jimmy to give Claude her address.
Claude had seen the photo of Chantal, who Siegfried and the Frau still thought was Jimmy’s mother.
Chantal told Jimmy to ask Claude to send her a photo.
Jimmy had a long letter from Jolanda, too. Mieke was still interested in “trying it” with a guy, but both Mieke and Jolanda had some questions about the pregnancy part. “If Mieke has your baby, Jimmy, we want to be the baby’s mother (or mothers) some of the time,” Jolanda had written.
“Tell Mieke that the baby will want to know you, too,” Jimmy wrote to Jolanda. “I know this because I want to know both my moms,” he added.
In a toy store, James Winslow bought a small German shepherd of indeterminate sex for Siegfried.
The painted dog was bigger than Siegfried’s plaster soldiers and made of metal; it was a match in size and weight to the garlic press.
With any luck, it might replace the garlic press, Jimmy was hoping.
The small Christmas tree in the living room of the Schwindgasse apartment was also made of metal.
There were only a few presents under the tree, where Jimmy put his Christmas present for Siegfried.
On Christmas Day, Jimmy was still in bed when Siegfried came into his room carrying the metal German shepherd instead of the garlic press.
The boy climbed into the bed and gave Jimmy a hug.
Then Siegfried ran into the hall, leaving the bedroom door open.
Irmgard came in and gave Jimmy a hug, too; her face was wet with tears, and she couldn’t speak.
Later, that same Christmas Day, Jimmy called home.
Grandma Connie answered the phone and accepted his collect call.
Jimmy talked to Grandpa Tommy and his mom.
Everyone said how much they missed him. Honor Winslow didn’t speak of knocking up anyone.
During the call, Jimmy watched Siegfried mutilate and destroy his plaster soldiers with the metal German shepherd—a sturdier weapon than the garlic press.
In the week between Christmas and New Year’s, both the Kaffeehaus Nachtmusik and Helene’s hairdressing salon were closed, but Leo kept the Turnhalle Leopold open for the wrestlers.
Sol and Simon took Hard Rain with them for some overnights, and Leo did, too.
Zander and Sergei said there were no dogs allowed where they lived; the med students made it sound like they lived in a dormitory.
“I doubt those two live together, or in a dormitory,” Little Mirror said. “Russians just do what they do, Jim.”
To Zander and Sergei’s credit, the Soviet wrestlers were the ones who warned Jimmy he was being followed. “The same three thugs who were following the Dutch girl—she’s the one they’re interested in,” Zander said.
“But now there’s a woman with them,” Sergei told Jimmy.
“Does the woman have tattoos?” Jimmy asked them.
“It’s winter, Jim—she’s wearing outdoor clothes—but she’s definitely the dishwasher who tried it with the Dutch girl,” Zander told him.
“Who else could it be—who else has it in for the Dutch girl?” Sergei asked Jimmy.
“If you go anywhere at night, take your teammates, Jim,” Sol said.
“Take all your teammates with you at night,” Simon told him.
“Me, too, Jim—I’ve never thrown a dishwasher!” Kleiner Spiegel said.
“Listen to Leo, Jimmy—the wrestlers are on your side,” Annelies told him.
She also informed Jimmy that he could expect to hear from Esther.
“I don’t want you to be hurt, Jimmy, but I don’t see Esther as the mothering type—nor do I think she’ll be much of a pen pal,” Annelies said.
“What’s more, you’ll always be writing her or hearing from her in care of someone else.
Esther has no permanent residence—she’s a woman of no fixed address. ”
“Ich wei?,” Jimmy said; he’d overheard his grandfather’s complaints about Esther’s itinerant nature. Jimmy wondered if he had an itinerant nature.