Czar Gregovivk Part 2
"Are you telling me that a neo-Nazi had a fetish for watching a Black man sleep with his wife but got angry at the thought of her sleeping with the guy when he wasn’t around?" Dexter, Baby's husband, looks at her and closes his eyes, shaking his head when she confirms with a slight nod. "My God, just when I think I’ve understood your world..."
"You’d be surprised at the things some people like to do," Ramsés says, taciturn, looking at him before turning his gaze back to me, lost in thought. "I had forgotten about that story of Morgana’s forbidden romance; my mother used to talk about it."
"Morgana held her husband’s seat before the council because they didn’t have children?"
"They had one, but the baby was stillborn," Ramsés answers quietly. I look at the photo of Petrus next to my father and Roy’s father. "My mother told me that was the cruelest year for the submissives who fell into his hands. Petrus took out all his anger over the baby’s death on the whips, he almost killed Morgana once from beating her so badly."
"No!" My aunt sobs and puts her fingers to her mouth, laughing. "Your mother was wrong; the baby didn’t die."
Again, my aunt manages to capture our full attention when she says this, with my eyes, Ramsés's, and Jonathan's all focused on her.
"How so?" I ask, handing the album to Baby and slowly approaching my aunt.
"I was working at the public maternity hospital in Moscow at the time, doing my residency there. Your father got me the job, Greg." She points at me. "A nurse, a friend of mine, who had worked for over thirty years as head nurse, made some extra money helping women have babies at home, and she was the one who delivered Morgana's baby."
"But that can’t be; Morgana and Petrus lived in Germany at that time." Ramsés looks at her, lost, becoming more attentive to what my aunt is saying. "The baby was born there, so it was buried there..."
"An unknown baby was buried in Germany because Morgana's true child was born in Moscow; or rather, her daughter was born in the motherland of Russia, just like her mother."
"Morgana had a daughter?" I ask, more anxious, looking at her, my brain working intensely. "Are you telling me Morgana had a daughter here in Moscow and made everyone believe she was dead? Wait!" I stop and absorb all the information. "Morgana is Russian..."
"Yes, she is. She might try to deceive others with her husband’s German accent, but Morgana is Russian to the last strand of her hair," my aunt says, laughing. "I can recognize a Russian just by hearing her speak. The day that woman was introduced to me, I knew she wasn’t German."
"But why would she do something like that?" Jonathan speaks up, thoughtful. "Why lie about the baby’s death?"
"Simple, because the child who was born wasn’t Petrus's daughter; the color of the girl revealed who her father was..."
"The submissive," I say, seriously, looking at Ramsés and Jonathan.
"Morgana had a Black daughter with her lover?" Baby asks, confused, sitting beside my aunt with the album open.
"No, Macro was talking about my biological mother; I didn’t understand... Because my biological mother died of an overdose; he knew that."
"No, that can’t be..." I murmur, not believing what I'm imagining could be true. "Aunt, are you sure of what you’re saying? You might be mistaken..."
"I’m not mistaken, Greg. Giva, the nurse who delivered the girl, would never lie; she told me herself..."
"Why did she tell you, mom?" Sieta asks, looking at her.
Aunt Yelena takes the album from Baby's hands and flips through the pages as if searching for something, making a loud click with her tongue when she finds it and points to it. Sieta and Baby, who are sitting on either side of Aunt Yelena, look startled.
"Because of her!" my aunt says, making a disgusted face.
"This one, hugging Morgana, is Freire, but the one next to them that your mother is pointing at, I don’t know her..." Baby scrunches her nose, speaking angrily. Roy’s wife stands up and approaches them, looking at the album.
"Shit!" I hear Sieta's voice, coming out nervously. "Oh, damn, Greg! Look who’s here with them..."
Sieta stands up and takes the album from Aunt Yelena’s hands, walking over to me.
"She’s the one who called the nurse to deliver Morgana's baby in the mansion at midnight, that’s why Giva told me, because she knew I knew her..."
"Valéria!" I say, naming my father's first wife.
I recognize her in the black-and-white photograph. The woman standing in her black dress, next to Morgana and Freire, who are sitting on a sofa, has a large pearl necklace draped in front of her body. One hand rests on Morgana's shoulder, and the other on her waist, highlighting her white gloves that go up to her elbows.
"I even thought it was strange when Melissa told me Morgana had lost the baby, who was the most beautiful thing, with her blonde hair and rosy skin..." my aunt continues speaking as I stare at the photo. "After a few days, when I found Giva, I asked her if she was sure about what she had told me. She assured me that the truth is one: Morgana gave birth to a healthy Black daughter who was born alive. Giva can attest to what I’m saying; the old woman is healthier than we are, at almost ninety years old. You’d be impressed with her elephant-like memory. If I’m not mistaken, she’s living in a nursing home in Santl."
"How many years ago was that, aunt?" I rub my face and take a deep breath, feeling the truth crushing me even more. "How many years has it been since Morgana's baby story..."
"It’s been twenty-five years; that little baby is a woman now!"
I close my eyes and crush my fingers by my side, feeling the whole truth forming before me.
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