Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week’s snippet comes a bit after last week’s, when 23-year-old departing soldier Yuriy suggested to his 18-year-old crush Inga that she might be a real American girl and have a returning soldier for a boyfriend by the time they meet again.
Inga said she only wanted her old family, and Yuriy tried to cheer her up by saying the pain of longing isn’t so bad as more time passes, and that after the war she could create her own family who’ll never leave her. He then holds out his hand for a farewell handshake.
“Can’t I hug you goodbye? You deserve more than a handshake after you’ve been so nice to me.”
Yuriy smiles as he hugs her. “You’re such a sweet girl. Just make sure not to be too sweet with the wrong kinds of people. You have to be strong to survive in a new country.”
Inga stands at the door and watches him walking up the street, until she can’t see him anymore. She was given a very nice friend, what some would call a guardian angel, bearing the same name as her belovèd dedushka, to get her started in America. But he could only do so much, just as eventually a mother bird pushes a baby from the nest so it can fly. Now it’s up to her to make good in America.
Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week’s snippet comes a few lines after last week’s, when 23-year-old Yuriy tended to his 18-year-old crush Inga’s injured knee one final time. They’re now on their way to get ice-cream before he has to get a train back to Canada.
This has been slightly edited to fit 10 lines.
Yuriy turns into the first ice-cream parlor that appears and finds a green corner booth that almost matches his uniform. He translates the menu for Inga, and she orders a sundae with chocolate ice-cream, hot fudge, cherries, and crushed candy bars, with an orange egg cream, while Yuriy orders a humbler strawberry ice-cream float.
“I’d ask you to kill some Nazis or Japs for me, but I can see you’re a medic,” the soda jerk says when she brings over the food. “Good luck with saving as many guys as you can.”
Inga lingers over her sundae and egg cream, not sure when she’ll next be able to splurge on a little luxury like this. Once they’re done, Yuriy leaves the money on the table and walks Inga home.
“You’ll be fine,” he reassures her. “You’ve got a new family who’s eager to take care of you, and some new friends. The language comes quicker than you think, if you’re constantly immersed in it. I bet you’ll be a real American girl by the time I come to visit again, and you might have a returning soldier for a boyfriend.”
Happy heavenly 123rd birthday to my favorite actor, Rudolph Valentino!
Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week’s snippet comes right after last week’s, when 23-year-old Canadian Army medic Yuriy gave his 18-year-old crush Inga an elephant charm and invited her to get ice-cream before he has to go to the depot at the end of furlough.
Yuriy also said he’d like to inspect her injured knee one last time.
“Sure, I’ll get ice-cream with you, but you’ll have to look at my knee downstairs. My father left instructions about how to navigate the subway, so I won’t get lost.”
“I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not a big deal to look at your knee here. No one’s looking in the window, and there’s nothing scandalous about sitting on a bed alone, if that’s all you do. I’m nothing like my blood father. I hope he dies in Siberia, if he’s not dead already.”
Inga sits down and looks away as she pulls her skirt over her knee. Yuriy unwraps yesterday’s gauze, cleans out the healing wound, dusts it with a thin layer of ointment, and wraps it back up with fresh gauze. As soon as he’s done, he stands back up, wishing Inga weren’t almost five and a half years his junior. Were she only a few years older, he could ask for more, and keep that nice memory with him when he’s far from home.
Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week’s snippet comes right after last week’s, as 23-year-old Yuriy Yeltsin-Tsvetkov visits his 18-year-old crush Inga Savvina before his furlough ends. He’s just asked if she can write him letters with her fountain pen and stationary, instead of using a typewriter.
This has been slightly edited to fit 10 lines.
Yuriy opens his satchel and hands her a silver elephant charm. “I got this for you. You can wear it on a chain for good luck. Don’t feel bad you didn’t get me a going-away present, since I wasn’t expecting anything.”
Inga puts it on her pillow beside Dotnara. “That’s very nice of you. I’ll take very good care of it.”
“Would you like to get some ice-cream before I go to the depot? I hope you know how to get to my aunt’s store by two. I’d also like to check on your knee one more time.”
Inga now works at the Russian gifts boutique run by Yuriy’s aunt Valya, her husband, and their three children. One of her duties is painting Matryoshka dolls. Yuriy suggested this job to her so she can stay close with his family.
Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. This week’s snippet comes right after last week’s, when 23-year-old Yuriy Yeltsin-Tsvetkov came to see his 18-year-old crush Inga Savvina before his furlough ends and he has to go back to Canada.
Inga was reticent about letting an unrelated man into the house without a chaperone, for fear of what people might assume, but Yuriy explained Greenwich Village is a very Bohemian neighborhood, where strict social conventions aren’t always observed.
She leaves the door open after she lets Yuriy in, and stays several feet away, just in case anyone who’s not Bohemian is watching from a window. She also leaves her door open when Yuriy comes into her bedroom, grateful no one’s in the courtyard.
“Very nice. Your father must really want a relationship with you, if he’d buy all these things and set this room up so nicely in under a week. Will you send me letters with the fountain pen and stationary instead of the typewriter? Even after you get good enough at English to use a typewriter, I’d like a traditional pen and paper letter.”
“You can read Russian?”
“My mother insisted, though I speak better than I read and write.”