Picked up my new travel passport yesterday, at last. Have a nice trip, they said. Thanks.
Walked up the hill to Zoryanyi. Past the police department where they weren't doing anything to help us find papa last year, until an order came from up above for them to get involved. Could've taken a bus to the Botanical Garden there, just like last year. Only this time I didn't.
Walked past the tennis courts hidden in the backyards across the street from Zoryanyi, where papa used to work occasionally. Told Marta about him, and about his tennis, and about all the kids he taught how to play.
- What's his name? - Marta asked.
- Igor. Igor Sergeyevich, - I said.
- And what's his name now?
- What do you mean? It's the same, it hasn't changed: Igor Sergeyevich.
And then I realized that I must've been talking in the past tense about papa - yego zvali instead of yego zovut. That there is one person, Marta, to whom I can talk about him in the present tense, to avoid the confusion, somehow made me feel better.