“Do you know which painting I sold?” he asked triumphantly, nodding at his briefcase.
“Which?”
“Rusty Evening!”
Yulia shuddered. Rusty Evening had been painted in blood. Oleg was so proud of his conceit—to create a painting two by two meters using only blood. He had bought syringes at the pharmacy and Yulia had given him blood in a skin ointment tube. It had made her head spin, but Oleg had been so pleased. “It’s all right,” he’d said. “You can take a break tomorrow. I have my mom and sister too.” His sister was all of twelve. Oleg was very proud of the fact that the picture had “virgin blood.” He drew human figures with it.
And now some “rich wuss,” as Oleg put it, had bought their blood.
“Listen,” Yulia groveled through her embarrassment, “since you got paid so well, can you lend me a little money?”
Oleg frowned. “I see,” he said nastily. “The female wiles are here. I know these crass women. They need money, not love.” He stood abruptly from the stool.
“No!” Yulia cried. “I’m not like that! I just … I just … They held back our pay. The crisis …”
“You have to be thriftier, Yulia,” Oleg preached, dropping back down on the stool. “Let this be a lesson to you. I can’t pay for your mistakes, understand? You have to save for a rainy day.”
Yulia nodded, scared. Oleg relented.
“Come here!”
Yulia rushed into his arms, breathing in his painfully intimate smell, realizing she couldn’t go on without him. She wanted to tell Oleg that something terrible had happened to her. But what would he say? She pressed up to her beloved’s chest. Anna and Jacob went into the bathroom. “Do I have to undress?” Anna asked again. “No need for that, I don’t think,” Jacob replied. He took the cord he’d prepared beforehand out of the pocket of his checkered shorts. “Anna, you have to get in the bathtub.” “Okay,” Anna nodded obediently. “Just promise me, Jake, that our game ends here and we can go watch television in the living room.” “I promise,” Jacob said. “The game will end …”
Oleg turned off the light and was now trying to separate Yulia from her red dress, but the clasp wouldn’t yield. Oleg growled lustfully, tugging at the zipper.
Jacob quickly tied one end of the cord around the drain grill. Anna lay down on the bottom of the bathtub. Jacob tied her neck so that there was no more than five centimeters of cord between the drain grate and the girl. “Goodbye, Anna!” Jacob said, and he kissed his sister on the cheek. “Bye,” Anna nodded. “Is this going to take long?” “I think fifteen minutes is all we’ll need,” Jacob answered, and he turned on the water.
Yulia burned with desire as Oleg ripped off her panties and bra, but she was trying to drive Jacob out of her thoughts. Oleg licked her belly, arms, and face—whatever he came across—with his hot tongue.
German balanced on the edge of the roof, trying to hold onto the New Year’s garland that was slipping through his fingers like a snake. “Jacob!” he shouted. “Jacob, help me!” “I’m hurrying, Papa!” Jacob shouted in reply, stamping his boots on the roof—and with a running jump he pushed his father off.
Oleg thrust himself into Yulia, panting and moaning. Yulia tried to get into his rhythm, furiously driving him on. Goddamn you, Jacob, her brain grumbled angrily. Goddamn those novels! Goddamn this job! Goddamn this life!
