"Patsy!": The Life and Times of Lee Harvey Oswald (38 page)

While with Lee, who certainly looked none the worse for wear, Marina was taken by a sudden personality shift. When Lee spoke, his voice sounded ever so slightly different than before. This she wrote off to his throat problems.

Far more perplexing was what he had to say. Her Alik seemed tougher, which impressed Marina. If there had been anything lacking in him during their time together, it was masculine assertiveness. Gone, though, was a certain quality she adored, in Lee's words and his eyes; that innocence she had mentioned.

In its place, a jaded element appeared. So when he without warning proposed, Marina could not answer at once. Back in the apartment, likely she would have capitulated while in Lee's arms. Instead Marina insisted she had to think about it.

Still, she came to see him every day. For whatever reasons, Alik chose not to discuss intellectual matters, as before. Now, he spoke of mundane things, like the quality (or lack thereof) of food here; which nurses were pretty, which were not.

Previously, she'd had the impression that when with Marina, Lee remained oblivious to other woman.

So what am I to do now? At first, I felt myself falling in love with my prey, though as a secret agent that
is
verboten
. That caused concern; such emotions leave one vulnerable. I could easily have said ‘yes,' traveling with him to his wonder-land, sharing his bed, as my orders insist I must.

Now all of that is changed. I don't love this man as I thought. Me, the real me, that is; not Marina. She must. I can pretend to do so, despite a sudden hardness in his character.

I will do whatever I decide is best for
me
... or, more correctly, Marina will do whatever I decide is best for her and me—the real woman who performs that character daily, but never forgets that beneath Marina's persona, there still exists an entirely other person, filled with hopes all her own ...

Though every day I play this role, I lose a little more of her ... of me.

*

As Lee and Marina exited the theatre, she anxiously tried to get him to talk about the film. The two headed to their favorite coffee shop, taking their regular booth. But while she rhapsodically recalled the contemporary clothing the women had worn, and the wild, decadent parties—the men literally forcing women down on all fours, riding them about a huge chateau like horses—Lee remained silent for the longest time.

When Marina asked if something were wrong, fearful this intriguing American had grown bored with her, Lee snapped back into the moment. He assured her that that was not the case.

 

In truth, he'd been so engrossed with
La Dolce Vita
's implications he found it necessary to think them through before responding. Now, he was able to do so ...

The main character, Marcello, was the first true paparazzi ever to appear on screen, photographing superficial/celebrity Beautiful People on their late-night odysseys through Rome. The city's classical architecture served as an almost surreal foil for the ultra-contemporary goings on.

In the most memorable scene, one tall, busty blonde movie star, Anita Ekberg, drunkenly sloshed her way into the Trevi Fountain, her jet-black gown soaking through, shimmering in moonlight as her impossibly long, tangled mane of blonde hair, seductively wet and messy, fell across her oblivious face.

Marcello pursued her throughout this momentary madness, hoping to seduce an icon of The Sweet Life. She laughingly dismissed him and all other men. Untouchable, yet at the same time available, Ekberg captured the essence of this still new decade, the Sixties, a lifestyle emergent; she like Bardot (and Sue Lyon as
Lolita
when Lee eventually saw that film) served as replacements for Marilyn Monroe and all those other blondes of the Fifties. They suddenly seemed outdated, nostalgic even.

This Marcello was one of the jet-set yet always there existed the possibility that he, and he alone, might prove capable of something better—an earlier sort of traditional life these others abandoned in their hungered search for immediate gratification, their senses all important, anything spiritual out of sight and mind—like that removed statue of Jesus; Marcello alone capable of a return to simpler times, before life roared out of control and nothing signified anything of lasting value.

The world, Christ removed, belonged to those young girls who wore bikinis while listening to rock ‘n' roll: The Moderns.

In the middle of the film, when Marcello's father arrived to try and persuade his son to return with him to their small village and the values still existing there, Lee had, on the edge of his seat, hoped Marcello would do so. For the old man offered earthy salvation from such superficial pursuits.

Throughout the film Marcello regularly came in contact with a lovely girl, not one of the In Crowd, the last old-fashioned female in all Rome. She happily did laundry while singing a folk tune, her smile sweet, genuine rather than cynical or sardonic.

Always, she beckoned for Marcello to join her. But to do so he must abandon his current companions.

In the film's final shot, Marcello and the partygoers, hung-over from the most perverse of all orgies, drifted down to the beach at dawn. There they discovered the grotesque remains of a fish consumed by nuclear waste that had been dumped into the ocean, the nightmare aspect of our modern world destroying all that is natural and best.

Those with Marcello took perverse delight in viewing this monstrosity. Only he seemed unconvinced this was ‘fun.'

Then, far down the beach, he spotted that girl again, she once more washing sheets, humming that ancient ditty, smiling. Recognizing Marcello, she waved to him, hoping he would leave the others, join her. For one moment, his eyes grew thoughtful, mournful, simultaneously sad and happy. Some capacity he once possessed for living in the fast-fading old world order, put aside for contemporary kicks, rose again in his consciousness.

Momentarily, a hunger for tradition appeared ready to reach the surface of Marcello's mind. By her very presence, she offered him a return to the way things were, before the world went mad, embracing nihilism rather than fighting against it.

Marcello appeared about to desert his current company, as she cooed: “Come! Come to me!” Then their howling at the sight of the all-too-real monster drowned out her voice. “I can't hear you,” Marcello apologized, any recollection of an earlier sort of knowledge, about to be reborn, disappearing from his eyes.

He shrugged, turned away, rejoined his companions as they moved on to their next round of drinking, drugs, sex.

Down the beach from this representative gathering of La Dolce Vita, the girl, knowing on some non-intellectual, deeply spiritual level that Marcello was lost to her, now and forever, smiled sadly. Then she returned to her work, humming again.

Marina, in her naïve way, had accepted the film's gaudy details at face value: the gowns, the diamonds, sleek cars, rock ‘n' roll, casual sex. Lee, in the darkness of the theatre, experienced one of those epiphanies he, on rare occasions, did when he had just seen a movie that spoke directly to him.

The film, he grasped, was not a celebration of The Sweet Life but a condemnation of it; a profoundly traditionalist work, a warning to each Marcello out there in the audience. If given this hero's final choice, we ought to accept that gentle girl's offer, flee from La Dolce Vita, re-embrace the Good Life of hard work, a man and a woman sincerely, simply surviving together.

Finally, Lee shushed. Locking eyes with Marina he feared he spoke above this beautiful but none-too-bright girl's level. Here she was, with her Bardot hairstyle, her enthusiasm for fun and pleasure. What was the title of a Bebe film he had seen?
A Ravishing Idiot
. Yes, that was her. And Marina as well.

He dared not reveal just how ‘square' he himself was deep down. Yes, the traditional life had always closed him out. But what did someone once say in a movie?
Just because you love something doesn't mean it has to love you back
.

Lee did not want to lose her, not this one; couldn't stand the thought of Marina heading back to other boys, they more open to the swinging style. Reveal too much of his own sentimental soul and Marina might dismiss Lee as a hopeless innocent.

If Lee Harvey Oswald, the homely runt most men thought of as beneath them, even “queer” perhaps, had worked his way up the shimmering rope ladder this high, there remained a part of him that did not want to lose everything by opening his mouth and saying something ... embarrassingly innocent. Then he would never reach the top rung and sleep with ... Brigitte Bardot.

Still, such a reasonable facsimile as he gazed at now was more than most men could or would ever know. These included many who had laughed and scorned him, but now led the most ordinary lives with the most ordinary wives. Like James Stewart in another of Lee's favorite films,
Vertigo,
he could at least embrace the twin of his dream girl. That would have to suffice.

Always, though, there would be the other Lee. The Lee who, like Marcello in the movie, wanted to abandon superficiality. Embrace something true. Hold on to that. Who knows? Perhaps Marina could be both, the Beautiful Person, glimmering in the moonlight but also a substantial young woman, able to boldly move in daylight, solid, strong. The woman who could bear him children, turn Lee into ... a Normal.

Was it possible for any woman to be first one, then the other? Or perhaps better still both at once, the hardworking life's partner by day, the elusive, alluring mistress when the lights were turned low? Was every woman all women? Or was this only what Lee, like every other male who had ever walked the face of the earth, most wished?

However impossible it might be, however unfair to the woman in question to expect so much, he wanted all that.

Terribly, completely, heartbreakingly wanted it.

Lee didn't know, couldn't answer that one. But he would know. In time. For he had determined already that Marina would be the one. The girl he would try to “have it all” with.

Marina, Lee grasped, was the woman he must marry. Yes, they truly were soul-mates, made for each other, as the saying goes.

Marina. The woman he fell in love with at first sight.

“There is the distinct possibility that an imposter is using Lee Harvey Oswald's passport in Russia.”

—J. Edgar Hoover, head of the FBI;

Memorandum to the State Department's

Office of Security, April 1960

 

In truth, Marina was far from the first woman Lee had fallen in love with at first sight. An unabashed sentimentalist, he had experienced just such a sensation whenever Lee gazed at a lovely woman. This was not confined to reality. The first time Lee saw Marilyn on the screen, he flipped. Then came Brigitte.

However intense Lee's one-sided romances with movie dream girls may have been, they were also, essentially, superficial. ‘Love at first sight' did not necessarily imply ‘ever after'.

As for his Russian sojourn, Lee first met with George in Tijuana. Things were proceeding smoothly. In Japan Lee had established ties with communists, spread disinformation among them, and established his pinko “legend.” Upon return, George guided Lee through two and a half months of strategic moves that would conclude with his arrival in Moscow during mid-October, 1959. First, Lee requested that the Corps grant him a hardship release from further duty to care for his sickly mother. A routine check would have revealed that Marguerite was able of body if not mind. But behind the scenes the CIA signaled the military brass to take Lee's claim at face value.

Lee received his dependency discharge on August 17. He then applied for a passport in Santa Ana so as to attend the College of A. Schweitzer, Switzerland. Before Lee left Santa Ana by bus on September 11 for Fort Worth, he and George met at Villa's.

“First, Lee, I want you to boil down all key classified information about the U2 into a single brief statement.”

Lee did not hesitate: “When ready, ‘The Race Car' will cruise high above the Soviet Union, reaching altitudes that may exceed 100,000 ft. This will allow the U2 to fly undetected over Russian radar, incapable of spotting an object at such a height. Cameramen inside will capture detailed images of Soviet military and industrial positions below, the Soviets completely unaware.”

“Correct in every detail. Other than aspects of nuclear weaponry, this is America's most classified information today.”

“Of course.”

“When we originally planned this mission, the idea would be for you to openly offer the KGB such classified information in exchange for citizenship. Then you were to ...?”

“Spread disinformation,” Lee chimed in.

“Precisely.” George sighed, growing intense, leaning in closer. “Only that aspect of the plan has been altered. You will now do the opposite: reveal
everything a
bout the Race Car.”

Lee found himself unable to reply. Nothing of the sort had ever been suggested. Momentarily, he wondered if perhaps George might be a double agent, working for the Russians, about to turn Lee, the patriot, into Lee, the patsy—a traitor to America.

“Calm down, Lee. It's all kosher. I've told you on more than one occasion the CIA's most important goal.”

As if brainwashed, Lee responded: “The United States wants to create a viable, continuing state of world-peace, no matter how tenuous it may be. We must avoid an atomic war that would obliterate much of America even if we ‘won.'”

“Again, absolutely right. You are a most apt pupil.”

“This, however, must be done without our being reduced to a second-rate nation in terms of our power to respond or, as a last resort, make the first strike. In the atomic age, this can only be assured if we, to borrow from Theodore Roosevelt, speak softly but carry a big stick—bigger than the other guy‘s."