The Charm School

you believe in Christ. But if you live your life according to His teachings, no power on this earth, no matter what they deny you in this life, can deny you the Kingdom of God.”
    The priest turned abruptly back to the altar, presumably, Hollis thought, leaving the more educated worshipers to draw their own moral or finish the sermon in their minds.
    At a particular point in the mass, toward the end, a large number of people either prostrated themselves completely, or if they couldn’t find the room, knelt and bowed their faces to the floor. Lisa dropped to her knees, but Hollis remained standing. He was able to look across the church now, and he saw standing to his left front, about twenty feet away, a stooped old man with disheveled hair, grey stubble on his face, dressed in a shabby dark coat that almost reached his ankles. At first sight there was nothing remarkable about the old man, and Hollis thought that what had initially caught his eye was the young woman standing beside him. She was about seventeen or eighteen, Hollis reckoned, and she too was dressed in a shabby coat, a shapeless red synthetic. But her manner and her bearing, if not her uncommon beauty, marked her as someone special. More than that, Hollis, who was trained to see such things, picked out the coat as a disguise. She was quite obviously someone who should not be seen in the Church of the Assumption. This discovery led Hollis to look more closely at the old man, who in an unusual gesture for a Russian, especially in church, was holding the girl’s hand affectionately.
    As Hollis stared at the man, people began to stand, and Hollis’ view was becoming blocked, but in a second before he lost sight of the strange couple, he realized that the stooped old grandfather was actually somewhat younger than he appeared. In fact, it was General Valentin Surikov. Suddenly things were becoming more clear.

27
    Sam Hollis and Lisa Rhodes moved with the crush of worshipers through the open doors of the church. The people carried their blessed food in bags, and many of them clutched a handful of the thin brown candles. Hollis looked out over the converging paths. These people, he realized, did not seem to know one another, did not speak, nor did they try to make acquaintances. They had come by metro and bus from all over Moscow to an inconveniently placed church, and now they scattered like lambs who smelled wolves. “Do the K-goons usually hang around?”
    “Who? Oh, those men. Sometimes. But I don’t see them now.”
    Hollis didn’t see them either. But he worried more about the KGB when he didn’t see them. He moved off the path and watched the people coming down the steps.
    “Are you looking for someone?”
    “Just people-watching.” Hollis realized that not only were the worshipers scattering, but the priests had not come out to speak with their flock. As he watched for Surikov, he said to Lisa, “No tea and fellowship afterwards?”
    Lisa seemed to understand. “The Orthodox Christian comes to God’s house to worship Him. The priests don’t come to your house to ask how you’re getting along.”
    “The Kremlin must find that useful.”
    “True. In fact, the Russian church has always preached subservience to the state. When the czars were on the throne, it worked for the church and the czars. But when Lenin became the new czar, it backfired.”
    “You mean there’s something I can’t blame on the Reds?”
    “The communists didn’t help the situation.”
    Hollis watched the last of the worshipers leave the church but did not spot Surikov or the girl with him.
    He and Lisa walked away from the church and sat on a stone bench occupied by a stout babushka who seemed to be sleeping in a sitting position. Lisa asked, “Did you like the service?”
    “Very much. We take so much for granted in the West.”
    “I know. Thanks for coming, even if you came because you had to go to the cemetery anyway.”
    “I came to be with you.”
    She nodded and looked up in the sky. “This is not like autumn at home, and it’s not like winter either. It’s something else. It’s like a time of foreboding, grey and quiet, mist and fog obscuring the world. I can’t see a sun or a horizon or even the end of a block. I want to go home now.”
    Hollis took her hand. “We’ll be in the air this time tomorrow, heading west.”
    She moved closer to him. “Do you have to go to the cemetery?”
    “Yes.”
    “It’s not dangerous, is it?”
    “No. I