Waiting For The Dance

A Chapter by Rina Tim

The novel is an attempt to look into the mystery of luck. People have never given proper attention to the process of choosing their chances, so Luck itself sets up to research the problem...

CHAPTER SIX

Being lucky had little to do with being smart or witty, educated or competent, which was usually necessary to achieve success. Neither did you have to be wealthy, though being wealthy was directly associated with success and thus, humans tended to like their wealthy ones more. But when it comes to making others believe that you are lucky, just be good-looking, and that's enough. This was a general rule:

If you wanted others to believe you, you had to look good in their eyes.

Looking good in the traditional understanding meant being pretty, healthy, charismatic, and stylish. Again, it had to do with having bodies: in the human world, a good-looking body (rather than brain) was a part of success, and success was a social thing which came with an effort (unreasonably large effort at times), and then even more effort to keep it.

Human luck, however, was different.

Luck was about picking a chance:

thoughtlessly, effortlessly, in no time.

No need for a body, no need for work of mind, no need for time, matter or space. Luck was incomprehensible because it was too simple for people to understand (they always tend to complicate things). Yeah, this was true:

I existed beyond human effort or logic.

You didn't have to be successful to pick your chances right, either. You only needed to be prepared. So I would say,

the secret of human luck lays in achieving a certain state of mind.

It is something that people are aware of, by the way: they call it inspiration. Suddenly, it became clear to me that

the inspired ones pick the best chances.

So I wondered, what was human inspiration? How was it formed? What could influence it?

I was going to look into it now.

* * *

At half past eleven, the hotel's first floor restaurant, Paradiz Garden, was nearly empty: business lunch visitors were not about to start arriving until noon. The restaurant slumbered to the subtle hiss of the air conditioning system, its four rows of tables �" all amazingly identical, freshly laid, gleaming with crystal, crammed with starched napkins, which stood at attention like toy soldiers, its blossoming trees in huge wooden bases scattered about the hall, its сute flowerpots of small roses set up everywhere, were enjoying the precious moments of peace before the new catering shift was about to break out. There was no music, no voices, no hum, the relaxing silence was only disturbed by occasional tinkling of glasses in the dusk of the rear wall area, where a few waiters were scurrying back and forth, tidying up.

Pacified and relaxed, Alec yawned and leaned back in his chair with a local newspaper in front of his eyes, but reading did not catch his attention, so he sat looking around, yawning, daydreaming, killing time. He didn’t know whether it was due to the jet lag, or to the professor's dead-alive nagging, but Alec felt languid with fatigue. He ordered another espresso.

Two minutes later, he realized that anticipation of the meeting with her was quite agitating, even disturbing. A thought about seeing Inga face to face pushed his mind into a state of a blissful, though unnerving, hover-mode. Along with a funny sensation in his chest, it provided a clear indication of what poets call a longing heart. Having realized this, Alec grew angry at himself and tried to ignore it. With no success, of course.

A voice coming from right above his shoulder violated his contemplation.

“You must be Alec. Hello.”

He turned his head and his face nearly bumped into a pair of perfectly shaped, juicy and tight, impeccable breasts, barely covered with a light chiffon blouse. A faint, fresh fragrance of some fabulous perfume almost knocked him out.

“I am Inga, your guide. The professor told you that I would be coming.” She started in English, distinctly and slowly, as people often do when they meet a foreigner.

Alec jumped up to greet her, his hand awkwardly reached out to meet her fingers �" velvety soft, thin, tender �" and his inner voice hammered inside the skull, What are you doing, idiot? You've got to bow and kiss that hand, not shake it! Arghh! Too late now. All right, now, say something to her. Something pleasant. Do it! But his mouth went dry and his head felt hollow, so he could only utter one word, “Alec.”

D****t, he'd never felt so nervous talking to a woman!

“May I have an espresso before we go to the museum?” she asked.

This woke him up. “Sure, be my guest,” he replied, a bit too hastily to sound neutral. He waved for a waiter.

Mmm, she was stunning! The silk of her chestnut strands, merrily dancing around impeccable shoulders, the velvet of her soft brown skin, a touch of childish directness in the wide-set eyes, the faint gleaming of clearly outlined lips, those graceful movements of a panther, even that skeptical grin followed by a quick glance aside. Alec winced in sudden awareness �" her manners bore an obscure, yet undeniable resemblance to Boris's! They must be very good friends, he thought. Oh, my, she is hot!

Little by little, the gift of speech returned to him. “Thank you for agreeing to be my guide,” he murmured, softer than he intended. “Er… Uh, I hope you enjoy doing your work.”

“No, I don't.” She glanced at him briskly and looked away. Exactly like Boris.

“Really?”

“Really.” Her perfectly manicured fingers touched the coffee cup. “Walking among ruins of a deceased city, telling people stories which had never happened. Do you find this attractive? Tersh is a dull, barren desert of dust. Nothing attractive here.”

“You don't like your city.”

She shook her head and dozens of chestnut strands followed in a merry staccato motion. “I hate it. Tersh is the a*s of the world, Alec. You'll see it by yourself soon,” she said kind-of playfully, lifting the espresso cup to her chin. The сurling brace of her upper lip pillowed the edge of the cup as she sipped her drink. The other lip pumped up. That would be a perfect prelude for a kiss, he thought. The lip trembled slightly as it touched the milky porcelain, and then she returned the cup to its place gracefully. Fascinated, Alec zoomed in on her mouth, caught himself staring, got confused, looked aside �" awkwardly, boyishly, got upset as he felt how his cheeks started to blush, and hoping not to be revealed, leaned back in his chair, pretending to be just looking around. He still could not make himself look in her eyes.

“Okay, where would you take a tourist like me in Tersh?” He hated having to sound like a patient father.

“I'd suggest a tourist like you not to come here at all. Tersh isn't good for tourists.”

Alec laughed nervously. “Thank you for letting me know.” Then, in a sudden fit of bravery, he moved forward �" elbows on the table, eyes fixed on her lips �" and asked, “Since I am already here, will you walk me around?”

“I will, if you stop treating me like a guide. Can I just be your friend?”

Is she kidding? He was dying to melt the ice, he'd give up everything he had to be her friend!

Finally, he dared to look up. Her eyes were shining with mischief, her face �" smiling, yet a bit disgruntled �" looked very young, almost childish, but the eyes were cold, almost stern. Could she be pissed off by something he'd said, or was it her usual manner? He couldn’t figure her out.

“I'd be honored to be your friend,” he began, pushing a shade of irony into his voice. “As a friend, I am interested to know: if not work as a guide, what would you do for living?”

“I'd rob a local bank, fly abroad, set up my own life somewhere far away. I mean, far enough to never return to this miserable province.”

She looked like she totally meant it.

“Why rob a bank?”

The arched threads of her eyebrows lifted, too, as she replied rather matter-of-factly, “Why? For the startup money, of course. You see, Alec, I can't be poor. I simply cannot. I must be rich.”

“Ah-ha. I see. Being rich means being happy to you, right?”

“No. Being rich is a way to become independent. I want total freedom to make my own decisions. This is why I need money�" my own money. I hate having to depend on my boyfriend.” She stopped abruptly, pushed her cup away, touched her lips, looked around, frowned, stared at Alec, and asked rather angrily, “Listen, why am I telling you all this? Those are my private thoughts, you are not supposed to know them! This is too personal.”

Alec sat back in silent admiration, his eyes felt slightly wet from all the intense gazing. He could not take his eyes off her. What a charming kid, he thought. So sensible and passionate, and �" Boris was right �" so amazingly immature!

As he sat studying her silently, she paused for a second and twirled her cup between fingers. “Do you find me naive or silly?”

“Yes, but only a bit.”

She gave him a long look. “Are you telling the truth?”

“I never lie.”

She sneered. “It's funny. No one has ever called me silly in such a pleasant manner. I guess you are right, I am a bit silly. But I'll grow out of it someday.” She cheered. “You know what's interesting, Alec? I've been sharing with you here, but I am not even a bit embarrassed! I like telling you things about myself.”

“I love listening to you,” Alec said casually, straightening his glasses.

Then, recollecting himself, he fumbled in his pocket and produced a small box. “Here- as a sign of our acquaintance, I brought you this little souvenir.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “A ring? From Tiffany? Wow. Mmm, is this- what metal is this?”

“It is silver, an apple ring, you know, a symbol of New York.”

She glanced at him with mischief. “Nobody wears silver here in Tersh- gold is our traditional metal, but thank you, anyway.” She put the ring on, studied her hand. “How did you know my size?”

“I didn't. I just left it to luck.”

“Hm. Your luck worked, it fits perfectly. I've always wanted to have a piece of jewelry from Tiffany. Thank you.”

“I am glad you like it,” he said, feeling shy again.

Inga sensed that. “Let's go,” she said, raising from the table. “I'll show you the bench, the one your great-grandfather had installed a century ago, and while we are walking, you will tell me about yourself, okay?”

“Okay.”

She passed him by slowly and confidently, like a queen, enjoying her radiance, deriding the rest of the world for being inferior to her. Alec remembered Boris's words, “Lead the way, be the boss, she loves it.” Ah, he wished! As he followed her through the door, he realized with perfect clarity that he'd been defeated: his ship sank steadily, overtaken and smitten by her irresistible charm. It felt as if all his life he had been waiting to meet this particular woman. He wanted just her: so moody, demanding, self-centered, supercilious, but also so childish, naive, impetuous, and stubborn. He loved every trait, every whim, every quirk of her passionate nature. He craved her for being exactly what she was. What a strange trick of fate! He was totally ready to throw himself at her feet.

Wait a minute. Her shoes. He stared at her shoes: the same shoes he had seen in the airport, and later in the hotel, behind that door in the end of the corridor.

“Were you in the airport this morning?”

“Yep,” she dropped lightly across her shoulder. “You know what? I like the way you talk to me. You aren't trying to please or flatter me like the other men.”

He nodded. “You are welcome.”

She turned her head to him. “You are very reserved, Alec, it's hard to guess what you are thinking,” she said almost accusingly. “I've been wondering, do you like me at all?”

* * *

At the entrance to the museum, a speckled crowd of kids, brought by buses from seaside camps bustled around in noisy gaggles, waiting for their tours to begin. Children swarmed joyfully, like bees in a blossoming tree, around several ice cream carts and a Try Your Fortune machine. Inga stopped to look at the main prize �" a big soft toy bear, tarnished and flecked with dust, apparently waiting too long to meet lucky winner.

“I want you to win that bear for me,” she demanded.

Alec blushed. “Sorry, I don't play games like this,” he answered and bit his lip.

“Come on, please, do this. For me.”

No doubt, she was flirting with him now. Her fingers caught him by a breast pocket button, as she stood in his way. She was studying his face, squinting in the sun, her eyes burned with a naughty, mischievous glow. Her hair, pushed by the wind, tickled his chin.

“You won two jackpots in a lottery recently, is this true?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Show me how lucky you are. Win that bear for me.”

“I can buy a soft bear for you.”

“No, I want to see you win it,” she insisted.

Her face was just inches away from his lips. Her other hand touched his elbow �" so gently, so tenderly. She licked her braced upper lip. “Please.”

“All right, I'll try. But what if I fail?”

She frowned pretentiously, thinking. “Hmm. I will kiss you as a consolation prize.”

I hope I fail many times, he thought to himself.

“I am sorry I won it,” he heard himself say a minute later.

She gently pulled him down to her face. Her kiss was juicy, fleshy, and sweet, like a bite of peach on a hot summer day. She let him go and headed down a tiled tourist path, as if nothing had happened. “You are twice fortunate, Alec,” she said. “You won the prize and got the kiss.”

“Yeah. It's my day today!”

“You owe me now.”

“I know.” He smiled.

He felt totally drunk. He adored her directness, her youthful obstinacy, and her stubborn desire to be rich, not to mention her beauty and grace.

“Would you trade another kiss for your jackpots?” she suddenly asked.

“No doubt I would.”

She stopped to look him in the eyes.

“Is this true? Are you sure you'd buy a kiss for dozens of millions?”

“No, I would not buy your kiss. I would prefer to get your kiss instead of my lottery jackpots.”

“You must be lying.”

“I never lie.”

She walked ahead of him in silence for a while.

“Alec, have you ever been in love?” she asked. “I mean, in a serious relationship?”

“Well, I was once, a long time ago, but I think I can do it again, much better this time. You?”

“I am still learning how to love.” She grew thoughtful for a while, and Alec slowed down, trying to keep up with her pace. Gray walls of the ancient metropolis made a perfect background for a portrait photo, but Alec still felt too shy to take out his camera. “I've been thinking.” She finally said. “Your great-grandparents�" they could have been walking just like us, exactly in this place, more than a hundred years ago. They might have been talking about the same things: money, love, this museum. Isn't it amazing?”

Those are amazing eyes, he thought.

“It is.”

“Did they love each other?”

“I guess they did.”

“Were they rich?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“That's a sad story,” she shrugged, thinking.

“You must be bored with me,” he said quietly, torturing himself with remorse.

“No, never mind. I am fine.”

“Let me do something for you. Is there anything you want right now?”

“Yes. I want to make love with you,” she said, still thoughtfully, nearly automatically- and then, stunned by what she'd said, she giggled with no shade of shyness. “Oh! Alec, I don't know what's with me today. Please, don't pay attention, okay?”

“Good suggestion.” He laughed. “Show me a man who'd ignore it!”

Her phone rang, making both of them wince. She took it and changed in face.

“Sure, I'm on my way,” she said to someone sternly and dropped the phone into her purse.

“Alec, I must go now. Please, excuse me. This is urgent.”

“Sure. May I see you off?”

“No, thank you. They've sent a car to pick me up, it's waiting at the entrance. Will you find your way back by yourself?”

“Don't worry about me. I'll go take a look at that bench. When can I hope to see you again?”

“I don't know. I'll call you.” She quickly grabbed his shoulders, pulled him down, kissed his cheek, and ran away, leaving the magnificent scent of her perfume on his face.

* * *

Beep �" beep. Beep �" beep.

“Boris, hi.”

“Privet, Kukla. So, did you meet him?”

“Da. He is a great guy! I am so happy!”

“What do you mean, happy? You were supposed to find out about his plans!”

“Sure, I know. Listen, I think he has no plans, but anyway, we really connected. I think he liked me.”

“Liked you? Dolly, did you flirt with him?”

“Bor'ka, this is none of your business.”

“It is! Don't you realize? If Mucker finds out… OK, let's talk about it later, what did you find out?”

“Not much so far, but we set up a great connection. It's amazing, Boris, I felt so free with him.”

“Oh, God, Inga! Didn't I tell you to keep your mouth shut?”

“Come on, Boris, Alec is a great guy, he'll never…”

“Inga, dear, he maybe the best guy in the world, but Mucker won't pay attention to that! If he finds out�"”

“Don't worry. He won't.”

“Aww, you are incurable. Okay, finally, what did you find out?”

“Well, I found out that he is genuinely rich and thus, he is relaxed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, he's been rich for quite a while now. Also, he is really lucky. I checked, so he does not need to hunt for treasures. They fall in his lap all by themselves.”

“Inga, stop talking in riddles. How can treasures fall into his lap?”

“Easy. You won't understand this until you put yourself into his shoes. If you try, you'll see it.”

“I really think you are telling me stories now. Don't make me mad, please.”

“ There is no reason to be nervous. You just don't understand what I am trying to say. Alec is a lucky guy, he attracts his good luck, you see? The treasures, if they are in Tersh, will find him anyway.”

“How is this going to happen?”

“Very easy. I think he does not have to go around looking for them. He will run across them anyway, sooner or later, because he is a lucky guy, you see? Being lucky is a part of his nature, and thus, he is relaxed. He knows he will have what is coming to him.”

“How do you know this?”

“I don't know, I just feel this. If you spend some time with him, you will sense this, too.”

“Kukla, listen, I don't care if Alec is in hurry or not. We are. If you don't please Mucker with certain information he wants and soon, he'll give you an acceleration you'll never forget, so you'd better hurry up. Where are you now?”

“On my way to Mucker's office. He wants to see me.”

“Ah! Right! He'll ask you what you could find so far. Are you going to tell him the same silly stuff you just told me?”

“Well, I don't know, I thought�"”

“Inga, don't be stupid. He won't believe a word of this nonsense. Mucker thinks realistically, you see? Your stories about treasures coming into a lucky man's hands are only going to irritate him.”

“What shall I tell him then?”

“I don't know. You are his girlfriend, not me, so think of something. And when you meet your Lucky Alec again, be more practical with him. Don't let him wind you up with this stupid stuff, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good, Kukla. Take care. I'll stay in touch with you. Bye.”

Click. Beep �" beep �" beep-

* * *

If the secret of human luck was in achieving a certain state of mind which would simplify the process of picking chances for each individual, then people needed a method of developing such state of mind. Amazingly, of all people who had ever tried to analyse what particularly makes a human being lucky, was Inga. “He is relaxed,” she said about Alec, and this was the best human word to describe the state of a person's mind at the moment of picking the right chance. Applied to the lucky humans, being relaxed meant not being worried about your body and not being worried about the consequences, which, in fact, rarely happened in practice. This is why humans like Alec Markov aroused my keen interest. I realized that looking so relaxed and confident did not come easy to them. Emotionally, they had to do something really hard, like investors selling into a rising market. I concluded that something distinguishing was going on in their brains at the moment of making each choice, something that gave them a timely warning signal.

For most human beings, not being worried about one's body was a sign of complete insanity. A decision like this could only be a result of some bargaining process between brain and body: an inner compromise that only few people could reach. I was thankful to Inga for bringing all this to my attention, she showed me the direction of search. To figure out what made some particular people luckier than the others, I needed to look into human brain-body relations. So I did.