Pearl refilled the champagne glasses, and then drank almost all of hers in one swallow. "Anyway, Count Cheremeteff came to help me find Sasha. Nothing we did got us anywhere. Time went on, and I discovered that I was fond of Count Cheremeteff. He was so kind, charming, and understanding. He did everything in his power to find Sasha. Soon I started calling Count Cheremeteff, Romeo. Then Romeo and I fell in love. This was a different love, than I felt for Sasha. It was something I didn't start, and couldn't stop. The love was in me suddenly one day. And it hasn't left me. We make packages, of all sorts of things, you can't hope to get in the army, and send them to headquarters for Sasha. We never heard if he got them or not. But I know wherever he is--he understands.
"Although," Pearl refilled our glasses with champagne again, "...it bothers me whenever I think of Sasha. Anyway, a stranger from his wife for over twenty years, Romeo lives in his palace with her. They're best of friends. She knows about our love affair, and she doesn't resent me one bit. It isn't unusual for the Countess to occupy her box on one side of the theatre, while I'm in my box on the other side. She's a marvelous, intelligent, and wonderful woman. She knows the best way to keep happy. I'm most grateful for everything that's happened to me. I find it very hard to believe that I was a nurse girl, a little Colored kid from Virginia--penniless--should now have all of this beauty around me. I thank the good Lord, every blessed moment of the day and night.
We could only sit and look at Pearl. Her life story had been a fairy tale that we had all read as kids. Except none of the fairy tales were as glamorous, or fantastic, or ever happed to a Colored woman in an American book. Pearl smiled, and her nose wrinkled, ever so slightly. "Well, you know all about me now."
"Your life," I said, munching on a finger sandwich, "is absolutely a dream come true." I swallowed some champagne, "I mean, I'm sorry about Sasha, and all...but Pearl look at the way you're living."
'I'm not the only one," Pearl reflected, as she passed some caviar, and refilled our champagne glasses. "Olga Burgoyne's had a hectic time, too. Or should I say a wonderful climb to the top. You must call on her."
I savored the wonderful taste of the caviar, and sipped more champagne. "We certainly plan to visit Olga. We heard about her the last time we were here, but she was in Paris. They told us, she has the only French lingerie shop, run by an American-Colored woman, in all of Russia."
"The Maison Creole," Pearl eagerly explained. "All her customers are American millionaires, English, Russians, Italians, Egyptians, Persians, and French nobility. She's doing well. She has over sixty people working for her. She came to Petersburg as one of the Amazon Guards. She met Alexander Karnieff who idolizes her. She adores him, and calls him Pumpkin Pie. Now she has the shop, a magnificent home, five servants, a big winter limousine, and a lovely summer car."
If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, it would have been unbelievable to me that Pearl and Olga could have risen into such riches and freedom. They had started off the same as any other Colored girl in the United States--poor, not having much education, having to scrub floors, washing clothes, and forced to be maids. They had had the same prejudices to be careful of, and the same taboos. In fact, most Colored people in America, spend their whole lives, struggling against the bruises of racism that were planted in their childhood, and hoping for freedom. Yet, I knew all too well that freedom was taken not given. Now here they were loved, respected, wealthy, speaking Russian, German, French, knowing symphonies, pictures, operas, and accepted into society. However, the amazing thing, was that there were several American Colored girls living very well in St. Petersburg. They had even formed a little group in St. Petersburg's International Social Life, and Pearl Hobson, and Olga Burgeyne led the group.
Olga turned out to be as wonderful as Pearl and even more beautiful. She had a golden hue to her skin, gorgeous head of black, short cut hair, and perfectly lined red lips. However, her most outstanding feature were her large thickly lashed black eyes, which she fluttered constantly. She had a lot of diamonds, too. Some of her rings were so huge, I wondered how she lifted her fingers. When we called on her, the next day, she was so pleased to see us.
"I'm so charmed that all of you could visit with me," Olga fluttered her long black eyelashes. "And are you in for a surprise."
"A surprise...I must tell you, Olga, every since I was a little girl, I've loved surprises."
"A dear friend of your's is here," Olga said, as she led the way into her spacious parlour, which was decorated with white French Provincial Furniture, and bright green, and yellow pillows. I noticed that only the wall with the huge fireplace was paneled with rosewood. The other walls were white with exquisite paintings, of different sizes, hanging all over them.
"Who can it be?" I smiled, while I admired the old antique clock above the white-stone fireplace. It was Minnie Brown, the girl who had given us money in Berlin, during our struggling period--standing right before us in living colour. "Minnie! We're so happy to see you!" I squeezed the fleshy part of her arm. "We hardly knew you. You've gained quite a bit of weight. You're so plump, we'll have to call you Teddy Bear."
"That's what we'll call her," Chic said, and everyone agreed, as we all stood to toast, and christened Minnie Brown as Teddy Bear. That is what she's called to this very day. On that day, December 16, 1909, in St. Petersburg, in Olga Burgoyne's beautiful parlour, Teddy smiled, and smiled, like she had some secret calm inside of her. She smiled like she was the wisest person in the world. Somehow, I knew that she had done a lot of crying to gain that wisdom. Just looking at her wide lovely smile, I knew that she would never be underhanded, or mean, or nasty. I knew she was the one person to trust without any holding back. I knew I had to have her for my very best friend.
Olga leaned back on the yellow and green pillows, and smiled, cheerfully, "You'll have to come to me for my Christmas Party. We'll have such a time like you've never seen before." She had taken us in, as friends, without even questioning. We met Pumpkin Pie, and we all got so thick together, no one could get us apart. It was thrilling to see Pumpkin Pie, sitting looking at Olga, like she was some special Goddess of Grace, who descended from heaven. The warmth in Pumpkin Pie's black eyes, as he stared at Olga, made me wish that I had somebody like that. Although, most of all, I was just happy for her.
Olga was so lovely looking, we couldn't go anywhere without everybody stopping to look at her. One time, we all went to the Ballet to see the "Little Humpbacked Horse" starring the beautiful ballerina Tamara Platonova Karsavins as the Tzar Maiden. She was a great ornament of the Marinsky Stage. She graduated from the Imperial Ballet School, and became the leading ballerine of the Tzar's Imperial Ballet. Besides, playing the Tzar Maiden, her most famous roles were Lisa in "La Fille Mal Gardee," and Medora in "Le Corsaire." Although, she was not just known in St. Petersburg, she was famous throughout Russia and Europe. In fact, every since she was a child, she had the encouragement, and sympathetic interest of members of the Imperial Family, notably Alexander III, his brother Vladimir, and Nicholas II. She was, also, famous for having the largest most perfect sapphire in the world. At the beginning of the second act, Tamara Platonova Karsavins came on stage, moved straight to our box, turned to the audience, and pointed at Olga. "I have never seen anyone so beautiful!" The audience stood up and cheered. That was how lovely Olga was, especially that evening at the theatre. Her tall slender golden brown figure was draped in a low-cut green crepe gown with a twelve-strand collar of emeralds. Olga was truly one of those necessary individuals, who managed to be at home, and accepted everywhere--a citizen of a borderless world.
After spending time with Pearl and Olga, it didn't seem like any time before it was Christmas. The festivities! None of us had ever engaged in such dinners and parties. Olga's Christmas was an orgy of plenty and luxury. We got presents on top of presents. This happened because it was an old Russian Custom for male guests to show their appreciation. Most of the guests were Pumpkin Pie's friends. We couldn't believe how rich they were. They loaded us down with little gifts like diamonds, sables, chinchillas...little thank you remembrances.
The parties went on from Olga's to Pearl's and back again until New Year's Eve. Then it was worth your life to be out in the absolutely freezing streets. Everybody ran around kissing and hugging everybody else, regardless of class, or whether a person wanted to be hugged or not. All of St. Petersburg, probably, all Russia was filled with bells ringing, and people shouting , "Novem Goden! Happy New Year!"
Thousands of people knelt, bare headed, in the trampled snow for miles, giving solemn praise to God. In that exact same moment of giving praise, they, also stood up yelling with light heartedness. Then St. Petersburg was filled with laughing, and happy mischief. This went on all night, until everyone forgot their troubles by drinking vodka, and champagne. So 1909 passed behind me.
It was 1910, and I had been in Europe three years. What did I have to show for it? I had pretty clothes, jewels, and money enough to keep me happy, and Momma from working. But most of all, I had my freedom, and a great stock of living. The store of living was the most important thing. I thought about Uncle. No matter how horrible he was to me, there was still wisdom. Anyway, Uncle had told me when I was getting ready to enter Sumner High School in St. Louis that, "The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery. Right now, you're discovering how pretty you look in your brand new shepherd plaid dress."
Uncle didn't know how right he truly was that teaching was assisting the art of discovery. He would turn over in his grave, if he knew how much discovery I had enjoyed, since I left St. Louis for New York. How many little things, I had taught myself in Europe and Russia.
I was, also, very pleased with myself, as I stood in the streets of St. Petersburg. I never stopped developing my talents that the good Lord had given me. So when the chimes and bells rang out 1910, and St. Petersburg was on its knees giving thanks, I, too, gave thanks. I knew little Tutti Harvey had more to give thanks for than anyone else.
A week after the New Year's parties had come to a glittery end, we were called to work at the Passazh Theatre. It was at the stylish address of 48 Nevsky Prospekt. Located between Nevsky and Italyanskaya Street, the entire building was designed by the architect R. Zhelyazvich, and built in the 1840's. Zhelyazevich modeled the fashionable department store, the Passazh Arcade, located on Nevsky Street side, after the Golitsin Gallery in Moscow. The Passazh Theatre, on the Italyanskaya Street side, was used for plays, lectures, and concerts, which is where we performed.
Now life scarcely ever began before midnight, unless we had to go to a play or some other form of entertainment. By the time, we finished our spot on the program, it was about three or four o'clock in the morning. Since we slept most of the day, in order to be keyed-up, and wide awake for our show, we were always ready to make a "night of it". Without fail, there were always people ready to help us have a good time. From cabaret to cabaret, we would fly over the dazzling snow. The troika bells would ring out from the horses' manes; we would sing Colored American Spirituals, which the Russians loved. Then we would sing Russian Ballads, which we loved. On and on--up and down the frozen Neva River we would fly, until when it should have been broad daylight, it was dark. In the wintertime, in St. Petersburg, there was never any sunlight.
Romeo, Pearl, Pumpkin Pie, Olga and I were the greatest friends. I admired them, and they loved to hear me sing. In fact, I spent more time at their houses than with the girls. Also, Minnie Brown, who we really started calling Teddy was always with us. None of us could bear to have any social event without her. She was good, cheerful, and wise. I felt she was my special friend. So I saw as much of her as I could.
Pumpkin Pie loved Colored American cooking. So sometime Olga would let the servants off, throw a housedress over her lovely clothes, and fry pork chops-in-champagne. That was Pumpkin Pie's favourite. It was about as typical of Colored American dishes as Thomas of Yar's ham-in-champagne, but it sure was the bee's knees! It made me as contented as a bug in Olga's thick Persian rug.
One night after the other guests had gone, Olga decided to make a sweet potato pie. As much as I loved sweet potato pie, I was scheduled to sing. I had an ironclad rule about food, and my singing engagements. Food and singing didn't work. So at eleven o'clock, I started to leave for the theatre. "You two have a good time. Don't eat too much whle I go to work."
"What do you mean 'work,' Georgette?" inquired Pumpkin Pie, his caring baggy eyes contemplating the word "work".
That was something new to me. Nobody had ever asked me that before. "You know..." I replied, bright like, "--work...."
"But why must you go to work?" He smiled gently, his black eyes studying me. "I don't understand it."
"I must live, and I must get money to live. So I work to get that money." But Pumpkin Pie still couldn't get the idea of me having to work. Olga's Creole Maison French Lingerie Shop wasn't work according to him. It was just a hobby. It was like Olga collected curios, or dolls, or some such thing. It didn't mean she was working. So my answer about working didn't satisfy Pumpkin Pie. He had obviously never worked for his money. In fact, he never knew any one who had worked to earn a living. He knew only one way to put an end to any thoughts on anything. So I wasn't surprise to hear: "Well, you don't have to work tonight. If it's for money you work, I have more than enough. Here are a thousand rubles." What could you do with a man like that?
Pumpkin Pie's questions, and attitude about work opened a whole new picture of Russia to me. I had forgotten about the unbreakable cast-iron differences between the classes. There were serfs, or honest reason why Colored people in America didn't have real freedom. In power there was strength. Without it, people were just goats. But, what I couldn't figure out, who the icy brilliant agent of doom was that decided the goats? If I could, I guess I'd be a most wise woman. Sometimes, I think, its the goats that decide themselves.
Anyway, I certainly believed that in art, as in life, this new century would be one of those times in history where worlds collided. However, I wasn't going to continue to think about "Lynch" anymore. Besides, personal things shoved it to the back of my mind. Our engagement was coming to a close at the Passazh Theatre. So it was time to start thinking about moving on. While we were making our plans, we heard that Teddy was ill and without funds. We all loved her dearly. So knowing that we would be traveling soon, we asked her to come along. She was so delighted that her health seemed to improve. Although, the day before we closed, Le Jardin d'Hiver booked us. This meant that we would stay in St. Petersburg a little longer. Teddy simply said, "Which is my bed." So we placed her suitcase next to my things, and snapped opened the locks.
