Текст книги "The Bronze Horseman"

Автор книги: Paullina Simons

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 27 (всего у книги 47 страниц)

After she had fed Dasha small spoonfuls of the barely brown, barely sweet liquid, she left by herself to go to the ration store. It was ten in the morning but still dark. At eleven it would be light, Tatiana thought. When I’m coming back with the bread it will be light. “Give us this day our daily bread,” she whispered to herself. I wish I had known that earlier. I could have said that prayer every day since September.

It’s dark all the time now. Was it late? Was it early? Was it evening or night? She looked at the alarm clock. She couldn’t make out the hands in the dark. I don’t see light. In the morning it’s dark, and when I drag the bucket of water up the stairs, it’s dark, and when I wash Dasha’s face and go to the store and the bombs fly, it’s dark. Then a building explodes and burns brightly, and I can go and stand in front of it and warm up a bit. The fire reddens my face, and I stand—for how long? Well, today, I stood until around noon. I didn’t get to the hospital until one. Tomorrow maybe I can go and find another fire somewhere. But at home it’s dark. Alexander’s oil and wick in the little plate help, I can sit and look at a book, maybe, or at Dasha’s face.

Dasha—why is she staring at me like that? She has not been herself for five days. She hasn’t gotten out of bed for the last three. Her eyes are darker—what’s in them? She is staring as if she doesn’t know who I am.

“Dasha? What’s the matter?”

Dasha staring, not replying. Not moving.

“Dasha!”

“What are you screaming at?” Dasha said quietly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Come here.”

Tatiana came and kneeled by Dasha’s face. “What, honey?” she said. “What can I get you?”

“Where is Alexander?”

“I don’t know. Up in Ladoga?”

“When is he coming back?”

“Don’t know. Maybe tomorrow?”

Dasha staring.

“What’s the matter?” Tatiana asked.

“Do you want me to die?”

“What?” Even in her own half-extinguished life, Tatiana was aghast. “Of course not. You’re my sister. We all need a second person to remain human, Dasha, you know that.”

“I know that.”

“So what’s the matter?”

“You’re my second person, Tania.”

“Yes.”

“But who is yours?” whispered Dasha.

There it is.

Tatiana blinked. “You,” she said. Inaudibly.

Across That Formidable Sea

I saw you, Tatiana,” said Dasha in the darkness. “I saw you and him together.”

“What are you talking about?” Tatiana’s heart stopped.

“I saw you. You didn’t know I was watching you. But I saw you five days ago at the post office.”

“What post office?”

“You went to the post office.”

Tatiana, kneeling by Dasha’s head, thought back. Post office, post office. What happened at the post office? She could not remember. “You know we went to the post office. We told you we were going.”

“I’m not talking about that. He goes with you everywhere.”

“He goes to protect us.”

“Not us.”

“Yes, Dasha, us. He is very worried about us. You know why he goes with me. Did you forget about the food he brings us?”

“I’m not talking about any of that,” Dasha said.

“Because of him, no one takes our bread. No one takes our ration cards. How do you think I’ve fed you? He has kept the cannibals from me.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

But Tatiana did. “Dasha, he brings me bread from dead soldiers to give to you, and when he can’t find that, he gives me half of his ration to give to you.”

“Tatiana, he brings it to you so you will love him.”

Stunned, Tatiana said, “What?” Recovering quickly, she said, “Wrong again. He gives it to you so you will live.”

“Oh, Tania.”

“Oh, Tania, nothing. Why did you follow me to the post office?”

“I felt guilty for not writing to Babushka. She looks forward to my notes. You are too depressing for her. You just can’t hide the truth like I can. Or so I thought,” Dasha said. “I wrote her a cheery note. I didn’t follow you. I saw you already at the post office.”

“We went to the store first.”

Tatiana got up to put another chair leg in the fire. The chair leg wasn’t going to last all night, but they had to ration themselves. When Alexander sawed up the table for them, Tatiana didn’t realize how much they wanted to be warm. The whole table was gone. Four chairs remained.

When Alexander brought them food, Tatiana didn’t realize how much they wanted to be full. The potatoes were gone. The oranges were gone. Only a bit of the barley remained.

When Tatiana came back to bed, she pulled the blankets and coats higher over Dasha and climbed in herself, wanting to turn to the wall. She didn’t.

They didn’t speak for a few minutes. Dasha slowly turned around to face Tatiana. “I want him to die at the front,” she whispered.

“Don’t say that,” said Tatiana, wanting to cross herself but unable to lift her cold arm out of the warm blanket. She was too weak for inflection. Soon the fire would go out. They would be plunged into black again. They were both spent and done. Tatiana thought they were too weak for heartbreak.

But when Dasha said, “I saw you and him, I saw the way you looked at each other,” Tatiana realized, no, they weren’t too weak.

“Dashenka, what are you talking about? There was no look. My hat was covering half my face. I don’t even know what you mean.”

“He stood at the bottom of the stairs. You stood two steps up. He stopped you from tripping on the ice. He said something to you, and you looked down and nodded. And then you looked at each other. You walked up the stairs. He stood at the bottom and watched you. I saw it all.”

“Dasha, darling, you’re worrying yourself over nothing.”

“Am I? Tania, tell me, how long have I been completely blind?”

Shaking her head in the night, Tatiana whispered, “No.”

“Have I been blind from the very beginning? From the day I walked into the room and saw him standing in front of you? Since then and through all the days that followed? Oh, God, tell me!”

“You’re crazy.”

“Tania, I may have been blind, but I’m not stupid. What do you think, I can’t tell? I have never seen that look in his eyes. He watched you go up the stairs with such longing, such tenderness, such possessiveness, such love, I turned away and would have thrown up in the snow had I had something to throw up.”

Weakly, Tatiana repeated, “You’re wrong.”

“Am I? And when you were looking at him at the post office, what was in your eyes, sister?”

“I don’t know anything about the post office. He walked me there. We said good-bye. I walked up. Good-bye was in my eyes.”

“It wasn’t good-bye, Tania.”

“Dasha, stop. I’m your sister.”

“Yes, but he owes me nothing.”

“He is just protective over me—”

“Not protective, Tania. Consumed.”

“No.”

“Have you been with him?”

“What are you asking?”

“Answer me. It’s a simple question. Have you been with Alexander? Have you made love to Alexander?”

“Dasha, of course I haven’t. Look, this is just—”

“You’ve lied to me for so long. Are you lying to me now?”

“I’m not lying.”

“When? Then? Now?”

“Not then. Not now,” Tatiana said, barely able to get the words out.

“I don’t believe you.” Dasha closed her eyes. “Oh, God, I can’t take it,” she whispered. “I can’t take it. All those days, those nights, those hours we have spent together, slept in the same bed and ate out of the same bowl—how can all of that have been a lie, how?”

“It wasn’t a lie! Dasha, he loves you. Look how he kisses you. How he touches you. Didn’t he used to make sweet love to you?” Those words were difficult to get out.

“Kissed me. Touched me. We haven’t been together since August. Why is that?”

“Dasha, please…”

“I’m not for touching these days,” said Dasha. “You’re not either.”

“These days will be over.”

“Yes, and me along with them.” Dasha coughed.

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Tania, what are you going to do when I’m gone? Will it be easier for you?”

“What are you talking about? You’re my sister…” Tatiana, if she could have, would have wept. “I haven’t left, haven’t gone away! I’ve stayed here with you. I’m not anywhere else. I’m not leaving you. And we are not dying. He loves you.” Tatiana put her hands on her chest to stifle a lingering groan.

“Yes,” Dasha said brokenly, “but what I want is for him to love me the way he loves you.”

Tatiana said nothing. She was listening to the wood burning in the ceramic stove, estimating how long they had before the chair leg burned to ashes, her hands on her heart. “He doesn’t love me,” she said in a hollow voice. How can he love me, but plan to marry you?

“Tell me,” Dasha said, “how long were you going to keep this from me?”

Until the end. “Nothing to keep from you, Dasha.”

“Oh, Tania.” Dasha fell quiet. “How is it possible that at a time like this, in the dark, so close to the other world, you still have the energy to lie and I still have the energy to be angry? I can’t even get up anymore. But anger, yes; lies, oh, yes.”

“Good,” said Tatiana. “You’re warmer for it. Feel it. Hate me if you need to. Hate me with all your might if it helps you.”

“Should I hate you?” Dasha’s mouth barely moved. “Is there reason for me to hate you?”

“No,” said Tatiana, turning to the wall. Lies to the last.

2

The next day Dasha still could not get up. She wanted to, she just could not. Tatiana got the blankets off her and the coats. It was nine in the morning, and the girls once again had slept through the eight o’clock air-raid siren.

Tatiana finally left by herself and went to the store. She got there about noon and found there was no more bread. They had gotten a small shipment in, which had all gone by eight in the morning.

“Do you have anything at all you can give me? Is there anything you can do to help me?” asked Tatiana of the woman behind the glass counter. The woman could not even answer.

Tatiana left and walked to find the only one who could help her.

To the sentry at the gate to the barracks she said, “I’m looking for Captain Belov. Is he here?”

“Belov?” The guard, whom Tatiana had not seen before, looked at his roster schedule. “Yes, he’s here. But I don’t have anyone to go and fetch him.”

“Please,” said Tatiana. “Please. There was no bread today, and my sister is—”

“What do you think, the captain has bread for you? He doesn’t have any bread. Get out of here.”

Tatiana didn’t move. “My sister is his fiancée,” she said.

“That’s very good,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me the rest of your life story?”

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Corporal Kristoff,” he said. “Corporal,” he repeated.

“That’s very good, Corporal,” Tatiana said. “I know you can’t leave your post. Can you please let me go and see the captain?”

He said, “Let you go on base? You are crazy.”

“Yes,” said Tatiana, holding on to the gate. She felt as though she were about to fall down, having walked too far. But she wasn’t going home without food for her sister. “Yes, I am crazy. But look at me. I’m not asking you to give me food out of your mouth. I’m not even asking you to move if you don’t want to. All I’m asking you to do is let me see Captain Belov. Please help me in this small way. Small way,” she repeated. “I’m not asking too much, am I?”

“Listen, girlie, I’m done talking to you,” Kristoff said, taking the rifle off his shoulder. “You better move on out of here. You get what I’m saying?”

Clinging to the gate, Tatiana wanted to shake her head but couldn’t. Only her lips moved. “Corporal Kristoff, I will wait right here. Sergeant Petrenko, Lieutenant Marazov, Colonel Stepanov—they all know me. Go on and tell them you are turning away Captain Belov’s dying fiancée’s sister.”

“Are you threatening me?” Kristoff asked in disbelief, raising his weapon.

“Corporal!” An officer walked across the yard. “What’s going on here? Is there trouble?”

“Just telling this girl to get the hell out of here, sir,” said Kristoff.

The officer looked at Tatiana. “Who are you here for?” he asked her.

“Captain Belov, sir,” Tatiana said.

The officer said to Kristoff, “Captain Belov is upstairs. Have you called him?”

“No, sir.”

“Open the gate.”

The officer pulled Tatiana through. “Come, what’s your name?”

“I’m Tatiana.”

“Tatiana…” the officer said. “Was Kristoff giving you trouble?”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“Don’t worry about him. He is just overeager. I’ll be right back.”

The officer went into Alexander’s quarters. Alexander was sleeping. He had been on barracks patrol all night. “Captain,” the officer said loudly.

Alexander woke up with a start.

“There is a young lady waiting for you outside, sir,” he said. “I know it’s against the rules. Can I send her in? A girl named Tatiana.”

Before he finished, Alexander was already up and getting dressed. “Where is she?”

“Downstairs. I brought her in, I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t mind.”

“That bastard Kristoff was ready to fire at her. I barely—”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” He was out the door.

Tatiana was sitting on the bottom stair, her head pressed to the wall.

“Tatia?” He came to stand in front of her. “What’s happened?”

“Dasha can’t get up. There was no bread at the store.” She couldn’t even look up.

“Come.” He extended his hand. She took it but couldn’t pull herself up. He had to place both his arms around her to lift her. “You walked too far,” he said gently.

She nodded.

“Come to the mess.” Alexander found Tatiana a piece of black bread with a teaspoon of butter, half a cooked potato with some linseed oil, and even real coffee with a bit of sugar. She ate gratefully and drank. “What about Dasha?” she asked.

“Eat. I have food for Dasha.”

He gave her another hunk of black bread, half a potato, and a handful of beans that she stuffed in her coat pocket. “I wish I could come with you,” Alexander said. “But I can’t. I can’t leave the barracks today.”

“That’s fine,” Tatiana said, and thought, I don’t think I can make it back. I don’t think I can. It was after lunch hour in the mess, and it was quiet. Only a few soldiers were sitting at the tables.

Tatiana wanted to ask Alexander about his week, about Petrenko, whom she hadn’t seen in a long time, and about Dimitri. She wanted to tell him about Kristoff. She wanted to tell him Zhanna Sarkova had died. It was time to go to the post office again, but she couldn’t walk there by herself anymore.

Tatiana wanted to tell him about Dasha. But the effort required to continue that conversation was too great even in Tatiana’s head. To make the words come out of her mouth, and then follow them up with more words and more thoughts, was unimaginable to her now, when she couldn’t find the energy to chew the bread she needed to live. She couldn’t think past the black bread in front of her. I’ll tell him another time.

They both remained utterly silent.

Alexander walked her to the gate. She stumbled on flat ground and nearly fell. “Oh, my God, Tatia,” he said.

She didn’t reply, but his calling her Tatia made her heart beat faster. She wanted to answer him. Straightening up, she leaned on his arm and said, “I’ll be all right. Don’t worry.”

“Wait here.” He sat her on a bench near the gate and strode off. A few minutes later he came back with a sled and said, “Come. I’ll take you home. Stepanov let me have two hours.” He put his arm around her. “Come. You won’t have to do anything. I’ll do everything. You just sit.”

Alexander signed himself out in the roster at the sentry gate. “I’m very sorry about before,” the corporal said to Tatiana, throwing a fearful look in Alexander’s direction. Alexander opened his mouth to say something, but Tatiana pulled him by the sleeve of his coat. She didn’t shake her head, didn’t say a word, just pulled him, and he prodded her away a little, closed his mouth, clenched his fist, and punched Kristoff in the face. The corporal fell to the ground. “I’ll be back in two hours, Corporal,” he said, “and then I’ll deal with you.”

Alexander told Tatiana to sit. She lay down instead. She thought, I don’t want to lie down. I’m not a corpse yet. Not yet. But she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t sit up.

Tatiana lay on her side, and Alexander pulled the sled through the snow, through the quiet, snowed-in streets of Leningrad in the middle of an afternoon. Tatiana thought, it’s too heavy for him. It’s always him. When we first met, he carried my food for me down these streets. And now he is carrying me. She wanted to reach out and touch the bottom of Alexander’s coat. Instead she fell asleep.

When she opened her eyes, Tatiana saw Alexander crouching beside her, his warm bare hand on her cold bare cheek. “Tatia,” he whispered, “come on, we’re home.”

I’m going to die with Alexander’s hand on my face, Tatiana thought. That is not a bad way to die. I cannot move. I can’t get up. Just can’t. She closed her eyes and felt herself drifting.

Through the haze in front of her she heard Alexander’s voice. “Tatiana, I love you. Do you hear me? I love you like I’ve never loved anyone in my whole life. Now, get up. For me, Tatia. For me, please get up and go take care of your sister. Go on. And I’ll take care of you.” His lips kissed her cheek.

She opened her eyes. He was very close to her, and his eyes looked true. Did she just hear him? Or did she dream that? She had dreamed of him saying he loved her for so many nights facing the wall, she had longed for those words, longed for them since Kirov. Was she just wishing for the white-night sun again?

Tatiana got up. He couldn’t carry her up the slippery stairs on his back. But he put his arm around her, and by holding on to him and the railing she made it upstairs. They walked through the long apartment, but at the door to their hallway Tatiana stopped. “Go in,” she said. “I’ll wait here. Go and see if she’s…” Tatiana couldn’t finish.

Alexander brought her inside and then went into the bedroom. “Yes, Tania,” she heard his voice. “Dasha is fine. Come in.”

Tatiana came in and knelt by the bed. “Dasha,” she said, “look, he brought you food.”

Dasha, her eyes two large brown saucers, two large brown empty saucers, moved her lips soundlessly, her stilted gaze traveling from Tatiana’s face to Alexander’s and back again.

“I’ve got to go,” said Alexander. “Go early tomorrow to get your bread. There is enough here for you until then. Have you girls already eaten all your barley?” He kissed Dasha on the head. “I’ll bring you more tomorrow.”

She lifted her arm to him. “Don’t leave,” said Dasha.

“I have to. You’ll be all right. Just get your rations. I’ll come and see you very soon. Tania, do you need help? Can you get up off the floor?”

“I can get up,” she said.

“Right,” he said, and put his hands under her arms. “Up we go.”

She stood up. She wanted to look at him, but she knew that Dasha was watching, so instead she looked at Dasha. It was easier; her head was already bent down. “Thank you, Sh—Alexander.”

3

They lay under their blankets in semiconsciousness. During the night Tatiana woke up hearing a knock on the door. It took her many minutes to get out of bed from under the coats and blankets. Unsteadily she walked through the dark hallway.

Alexander stood at the door dressed in his white battle uniform. Over his ears and head was a quilted hat, and in his hands he held a blanket.

“What’s the matter?” she said, putting her hand on her chest. Seeing him, Tatiana’s heart pulsed a beat faster, even in the middle of the night. Her eyes opened a bit wider; she was awake. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Get yourself and Dasha ready; where is she? She needs to get ready.”

“Where are we going? Dasha can’t get up,” Tatiana said. “You know that. She is coughing badly.”

“She will get up,” Alexander replied. “Come on. There is an armament truck leaving the garrison tonight. I will get you to Ladoga, and then you will go to Kobona. Tania! I will get you out of Leningrad.”

He walked through the hallway and came into the bedroom. Dasha was lying under her blankets and coats. Her lips were not moving, her eyes would not open.

“Dasha,” Alexander whispered. “Dashenka, dear, wake up. We’ve got to leave. Right now, we’ve got to go. Quick.”

Without opening her eyes, Dasha muttered, “I can’t get up.”

“You can get up, and you will get up,” he said. “An armament truck is waiting at the barracks. I will get you to Lake Ladoga. Then we will get you across the lake. Tonight. You’ll get to Kobona, where there is food, and then you girls can go to your Babushka in Molotov. But you have to get up right now, Dasha. Now, let’s go.” He moved the blankets off her.

Dasha whispered, “I can’t get to the barracks.”

“Tania has a sled. And look!” He opened his coat and took out a piece of white bread with a crust. Breaking off a hunk of the soft inside, he put it to Dasha’s mouth. “White bread! Eat. It will give you strength.”

Dasha opened her mouth. She chewed listlessly without opening her eyes and then coughed. Tatiana stood nearby, wrapped in her own coat with a blanket over her shoulders, looking at the piece of bread the way she once used to look at Alexander. Maybe Dasha won’t finish it all. Maybe there will be some left for me.

It was only a little piece. Dasha ate everything. “Is there more?” she asked.

“Only the crust,” Alexander replied.

“I’ll have it.”

“You can’t chew it.”

“I’ll swallow it whole.”

“Dasha… maybe your sister can have it?” he asked with feeling.

“She’s standing, isn’t she?”

Alexander looked up at Tatiana, who was standing next to him. Shaking her head, she said, looking longingly at the crust, “Give it to her. I’m standing.”

Breathing in deeply, Alexander gave the crust to Dasha and then, rising to his feet, said to Tatiana, “Let’s get going. What do you need to do to get ready? Can I help you pack?”

Tatiana stared at him with empty eyes. “I have nothing. I’m ready now. My boots are on. My coat is on. We’ve sold everything and burned everything else.”

“Everything?” he asked her in the darkness—one word, brimming with the past.

“I have… the books—” She broke off.

“Bring them,” Alexander said and, leaning closer to her, continued, “Check out the back cover of Pushkin when you’re feeling particularly down on your luck. Where are they?”

Alexander crawled under the bed to get her books, while Tatiana found Pasha’s old backpack. Then he lifted Dasha and forced her to stand up. In the dark the three silhouettes struggled in silence, with only Dasha’s intermittent moans and chesty coughing breaking the night into shards. Finally Alexander picked her up and carried her out of the apartment, and they slid down the stairs. Outside in the bitter night he laid Dasha across the sled, covering her with the blanket he had brought. Alexander and Tatiana picked up the reins and slowly pulled Dasha down the streets through the snow in the girls’ childhood blue sled with bright red runners.

“What’s going to happen to Dasha?” Tatiana said quietly.

“In Kobona there is food and a hospital. Once she is better, you will go to Molotov.”

“She sounds bad.”

Alexander didn’t say anything.

“Why is she coughing like that?” Tatiana said, and coughed herself.

Alexander didn’t say anything.

“I haven’t heard from Babushka in so long.”

“She is fine. She is better off than you,” Alexander said. “Is it hard for you to pull? Just walk beside me. Let go of the sled.”

“No.” It was a tremendous effort. “Let me help you.”

“Save your strength.” He made her release the rope. Tatiana let go and walked alongside him.

“Hold on to my arm,” Alexander told her. She did.

The night was so cold, Tatiana stopped feeling her feet. Leningrad was still and silent and almost completely dark. In the sky the translucent banded lights of the aurora borealis streaked green through the blackness. Tatiana turned around to look at Dasha, who lay motionless in the sled.

“She seems so weak,” Tatiana said.

“She is weak.”

“How do you manage?” she asked in a low voice. “How do you manage to carry your weapon, to stand guard, to go and fight, to be strong for all of us?”

“I give you,” said Alexander, glancing at her, “what you need most from me.”

They trod mutely through the snow. Alexander got slower. Tatiana took the second rope from his hands. He did not protest.

“I’ll feel better knowing you two are out of Leningrad. I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe,” he said. “Don’t you think it will be better?”

Tatiana didn’t reply. Better to eat, yes. Better for Dasha to eat, yes.

But not better for Alexander, not better for her. Not better to stop seeing him. She said none of these things. And then she heard his soft “I know.” And wanted to cry, but she knew crying was impossible. Her eyes exposed to the black frost, sore from the wind, half shut from the cold, were dry.

When they finally got to the barracks an hour later, the army truck was minutes away from leaving. Alexander carried Dasha inside the covered vehicle. There were six soldiers sitting on the floor, and a young woman holding a small infant sitting next to a man who looked barely alive. He looks much worse than Dasha, Tatiana thought, but when she looked at Dasha, she saw that her sister could not even sit up by herself. Every time Alexander sat her up Dasha would tilt to one side. Tatiana needed help getting inside the truck. She could not jump up or pull herself up by her arms. She needed someone to lift her. All the people inside the truck were oblivious to her, including Alexander, who was trying anxiously and solicitously to get Dasha to open her eyes. Someone from the outside shouted, “Go!” And the truck started slowly moving forward in the snow. “Shura!” Tatiana cried.

Alexander crawled across the floor of the truck, grabbing Tatiana’s arms and pulling her in.

“Did you forget about me?” she asked and saw Dasha’s open eyes watching them.

The door closed, and it became very dark, and in the dark, on her hands and knees, Tatiana made her way to Dasha.

In silence they drove toward Lake Ladoga.

Alexander sat on the floor next to his rifle. Dasha lay on the sawdust-covered floor with her head in his lap. Tatiana picked up her sister’s feet and slid under them, closer to Alexander. Dasha now lay nearly on top of them. Alexander had her head, Tatiana had her feet. Alexander leaned against the wall of the cabin, and Tatiana leaned against the wall of the truck. She picked up a piece of sawdust and put it in her mouth. It tasted like bread. She had another piece.

“Don’t eat that, Tania,” said Alexander. How could he see her? “It’s filthy.”

Time passed. In the occasional flicker of light, Tatiana would catch Alexander staring at her. Their eyes met and held until the light from the passing vehicle dimmed. Without saying a word, without touching each other, they sat on the floor and in every lit moment caught each other’s gaze.

Endless minutes passed.

“What time is it, do you know?” Tatiana asked quietly.

Alexander said, “Two in the morning. We’ll be there soon.”

Tatiana wanted to eat, and she wanted to stop being cold. She wanted her sister to get better, to get up. At the same time, leaving for Molotov seemed so final.

She waited for another light so she could catch Alexander’s eye for a second or two. Her eyes got used to the dark, and she could make out his silhouette, his head and hat, the shape of his arms that lay around Dasha to keep her warm. Tatiana squeezed Dasha’s legs, first softly, then harder. She shook Dasha’s legs, first softly, then harder. Dasha stirred a bit and coughed. Relieved, Tatiana closed her eyes, only to instantly open them again. She didn’t want to close her eyes. In a little while she would be across the Ladoga ice, away from him. If I reach out, I can almost touch him, she thought.

“Tania?” she heard his voice.

“Yes—Alexander?”

“What’s the name of the village your grandmother lives in?”

“Lazarevo.” She stretched out her hand to him. He stretched out his hand to her.

“Lazarevo.” Passing light. Alexander and Tatiana touched each other. Darkness again.

Alexander fell asleep. Dasha was asleep. All the people in the truck had their eyes closed, except for Tatiana, who could not take her eyes off Alexander’s sleeping form. Maybe I’m dead, she thought. Dead people can’t close their eyes. Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep. I’m dead. But she could not close her eyes. She watched him. Both his hands were on Dasha’s head.

“Alexander, why didn’t you buy yourself an ice cream, too?”

“I didn’t want one.”

“Then why are you looking so longingly at mine?”

“I’m not looking longingly at your ice cream.”

“No? Would you like a taste?”

“All right.” He bent and had a lick of her creamy ice cream.

“Isn’t it good?”

“So good, Tania.”

Finally the truck stopped. Alexander opened his eyes. The other people stirred. The woman with the baby got up first and whispered to her husband, “Leonid, come on, dear, time to get across, get up, darling.”

Alexander moved out from under Dasha, stood, and gave his arm to Tatiana. “Get up, Tatia,” he said softly. “It’s time.” He pulled her up. She swayed from weakness.

“Shura,” she said, “what am I going to do with Dasha in Kobona? She can’t walk. And I’m not you, I can’t carry her.”

“Don’t worry. There will be soldiers and doctors to help you. Look at that woman,” he whispered to her. “She carries her baby, but her husband can’t hold himself up, just like Dasha. She’ll manage. You’ll see. Come, I’ll help you down.”

Jumping down, he extended his arms to Tatiana, who could not have jumped down if she wanted to. Alexander lifted her and brought her down to stand in front of him. He did not let go.

“Go get Dasha, Shura,” Tatiana whispered.

“Come on! Let’s move it!” a sergeant shouted behind them. Alexander let go of Tatiana and grimly turned around. The sergeant quickly apologized to the captain.

Tatiana saw four other trucks with their lights on, shining down on the snow-covered field ahead. She realized that it wasn’t a field. It was Lake Ladoga. It was the Road of Life.

“Come on, come on, comrades! Walk down to the lake. There is a truck waiting there for you. Come on, the quicker you get inside, the quicker we can go. It’s thirty kilometers, a couple of hours on the ice, but there’s butter on the other side, and maybe even some cheese. Hurry!”

The woman with the baby was already walking down the hill with her husband limping beside her.

Dasha was in Alexander’s arms. “Stand her up, Shura,” said Tatiana. “Let’s get her to walk.”

He put Dasha down, but her legs buckled under her. “Come on, Dasha,” said Tatiana. “Walk with me. There’s butter on the other side, did you hear?”