The Charm School

like stiff cream than butter, and a bowl of pickled beets. There was apparently no menu, and a waitress brought four
pannikins
of mushrooms floating in hot cream. A waiter set down a tureen of borscht on which floated a film of sour cream.
    Hollis and Lisa fell into conversation with the Turnbills. They were a casually dressed couple, attractive and in their mid-thirties. They were both instructors at Brown; he taught anthropology and she taught psychology. Hollis told them he was a used car salesman from Hoboken, New Jersey, and Lisa was a housewife, which earned him a kick under the table.
    George Turnbill said to Hollis, “Our tour group is having lunch at the downtown Intourist so they can go to GUM department store afterward. But Dina and I came back here to see more of this Economic Exhibition across the street.”
    Hollis replied, “We’re in the same situation.”
    Dina said, “Isn’t it marvelous?”
    “What?”
    “The exhibition. They’ve done so much in so short a time.”
    Hollis thought the old “so short a time” tagline was wearing a little thin after seventy years.
    George exclaimed, “You can eat off the streets here! Have you seen the subways yet? My God, they’re marble and brass!”
    Lisa smiled. “We’ve been exploring the subways quite a bit.”
    Dina said, “George and I walked around Red Square last night—eleven o’clock at night, and we never once felt afraid. Right, George?”
    “There’s no crime here,” George agreed. “This is a very well-run city and country. The people seem content, prosperous, healthy, and well fed.”
    Hollis poured the
pannikin
of mushrooms into the beet soup and studied the result.
    Lisa responded, “I’ve noted that almost no one smiles—”
    “That,” Dina interrupted, “is just a national character trait. It doesn’t mean they’re not happy.”
    “For instance,” George explained, “Orientals smile when they’re embarrassed.”
    Hollis had the feeling he was getting a combined psychology and anthropology lecture. He tried the pear soda, then washed the taste out with the mineral water, then tried the borscht and mushroom concoction. Hollis badly wanted a drink, but the anti-alcohol campaign made it impossible to buy the stuff before four P . M ., not even wine or beer in a tourist restaurant. He poured Pepsi, pear soda, and mineral water into one glass and swirled it around.
    George asked him, “Did you notice how cheap everything is? Five kopeks for the metro, two kopeks for the telephone. I bought a beautiful photo book of Moscow for two rubles, and the room here is about thirty rubles, and there’s no tipping.”
    Hollis thought about mentioning the price of fresh food if you could get it, or that badly made shoes cost about sixty dollars, junk cars about nine thousand dollars, and freedom couldn’t be bought at any price. He said to George, “What exactly did you come here to find?”
    George answered without hesitation. “The truth. I came to Moscow to look for the truth.”
    “That,” Hollis said, “is sort of like going to Forty-second Street to look for virtue.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?”
    Lisa interjected, “We’re having a somewhat different experience here than you.”
    “You have to stay open-minded,” Dina advised.
    Hollis turned to Lisa and said in Russian, “I’m not sure I want to go back to America if there are any more shitheads like these two here.”
    Lisa replied, “Just stay away from college campuses.”
    George asked, “Is that Russian?”
    “Polish,” Hollis said.
    They finished the mushrooms, the bread, the mineral water, and the pickled beets, but there was no sign of the main course. From where he sat, Hollis could see behind the screen that shielded the kitchen door. Six waiters and waitresses sat there at a table, drinking tea and talking. Hollis said dryly, “I’m glad they’re having a good time on their day off.”
    The Turnbills were extolling the virtues of black bread, mineral water, and pear soda, though they couldn’t find much good to say about the communist Pepsi.
    Lisa asked the Turnbills, “Did you hear since you’ve been here that the Soviets have expelled two Americans from the embassy?”
    “We heard that right before we left, Tuesday,” George answered. “In fact, we read it in
The New York Times
at Kennedy Airport.”
    Dina said, “
The Times
story said they went into an unauthorized area, that the man was a military attaché, and that those