Between Shades of Gray(23)

“Where can we eat?” said Jonas.

“I’m not certain,” said Mother, looking in the pots. “This is filthy. But nothing a little cleaning can’t fix, right?”

“Well, it’s nice to be off that train,” said Jonas.

The young blond NKVD burst through the door. “Elena Vilkas,” he said.

Mother looked up at the guard.

“Elena Vilkas!” he repeated, louder this time.

“Yes, that’s me,” said Mother. They began speaking in Russian, then arguing.

“What is it, Mother?” asked Jonas.

Mother gathered us into her arms. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll stay together.”

The guard yelled, “Davai!” waving us out of the hut.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“The commander wants to see me. I told him we all had to go together,” said Mother.

The commander. My stomach rolled. “I’ll stay here. I’ll be fine,” I said.

“No, we must all stay together,” said Jonas.

We followed the blond guard between battered shacks until we reached a log building in much better condition than the others. A few NKVD gathered near the door smoking cigarettes. They leered at Mother. She surveyed the building and the guards.

“Stay here,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

“No,” said Jonas. “We’re coming in with you.”

Mother looked toward the lusty guards, then at me.

A guard stepped down from the door. “Davai!” he yelled, pulling Mother by the elbow toward the building.

“I’ll be right back,” said Mother over her shoulder before she disappeared through the door.

“I’ll be right back,” said Mother.

“But what do you think?” I asked.

“I think you look lovely,” said Mother, stepping back to admire the dress.

“Good,” said the tailor, placing pins back into his small satin pin cushion. “All done, Lina. You can change now, but be careful, it’s just pinned, not stitched.”

“Meet me on the sidewalk,” said Mother over her shoulder before she disappeared through the door.

“Your mother has excellent taste in dresses,” said the tailor.

He was right. The dress was beautiful. The soft gray color made my eyes stand out.

I changed out of the dress and walked outside to meet Mother. She wasn’t there. I peered down the row of brightly colored shops but didn’t see her. Down the street, a door opened and Mother emerged. Her blue hat matched her dress, which fluttered around her legs as she walked toward me. She held up two ice cream cones and smiled, a shopping bag dangling from her arm.

“The boys are having their day and we’ll have ours,” said Mother, her red lipstick shining. She handed me a cone and steered us over to a bench. “Let’s sit.”

Papa and Jonas had gone to a soccer match, and Mother and I had spent the morning shopping. I licked the creamy vanilla ice cream and leaned back against the warm bench.

“It feels good to sit,” sighed Mother. She looked over to me.

“Okay, the dress is finished—what else did we have to do?”

“I need charcoal,” I reminded her.

“Ah, that’s right,” said Mother. “Charcoal for my artist.”



“We should have gone with her,” said Jonas.

He was right. But I didn’t want to be near the commander. Mother knew it. I should have gone in with her. Now she was alone with them, unprotected, and it was my fault. I tugged Jonas over to the side of the building near a dirty window.

“Stay here so the blond guard can see you,” I told Jonas.

“What are you doing?” he said.

“I’m going to look in the window, to make sure Mother’s all right.”

“No, Lina!”

“Stay there,” I told him.

The blond guard looked no more than twenty. He was the one who had turned away when we took our clothes off. He took out a pocketknife and began scraping underneath his fingernails. I edged over toward the window and stood on my toes. Mother sat in a chair and stared into her lap. The commander sat on the edge of a desk in front of her. He flipped through a file while speaking to Mother. He closed the file and balanced it on his thigh. I looked over at the guard, then stretched a bit higher for a better view.

“Stop it, Lina. Andrius says they’ll shoot us if you make trouble,” whispered Jonas.

“I’m not making trouble,” I said, moving back to my brother. “I just wanted to make sure she was all right.”

“Well, remember what happened to Ona,” said Jonas. What had happened to Ona? Was she in heaven with her daughter and my grandma? Or was she floating amongst the trains and masses of Lithuanians, searching for her husband?

Those were questions for Papa. He always listened intently to my questions, nodding and then pausing carefully before answering. Who would answer my questions now?

The weather was warm, despite the cloudy sky. In the distance, beyond the shacks, I saw spruce and pine trees interspersed with farmlands. I looked around, memorizing the landscape to draw it for Papa. I wondered where Andrius and his mother were.

Some of the buildings were in better shape than ours. One had a log fence around it and another, a small garden. I’d draw them—sad and shriveled with barely a spot of color.