Between Shades of Gray(26)

“The villagers are not happy,” said Mrs. Rimas. “But they were expecting us. Apparently, several truckloads of Estonians were dumped in a nearby village a few days ago.”

Mother’s shovel paused. “Estonians?”

“Yes,” whispered Mrs. Rimas. “They’ve deported people from Estonia and Latvia, too.”

Mother sighed. “I feared that might happen. It’s madness. How many will they deport?”

“Elena, there will be hundreds of thousands,” said Mrs. Rimas.

“Quit your gossiping and get to work,” barked the grouchy woman. “I want to eat.”





33


WE HAD DUG a pit more than two feet deep when a truck brought a small bucket of water. The guard gave us a break. Blisters wept on my hands. Our fingers were caked with dirt. They wouldn’t give us a ladle or cup. We bent like dogs, each taking turns lapping out of the bucket while the blond guard drank leisurely from a large canteen. The water smelled fishy, but I didn’t care. My knees looked like raw meat, and my back ached from bending for hours.

We were digging in a small clearing, surrounded by woods. Mother asked permission to go to the bathroom and then pulled me, along with Mrs. Rimas, into the trees. We squatted, our dresses bunched around our waists, to relieve ourselves.

We faced each other, all on our haunches. “Elena, can you pass the talcum, please?” said Mrs. Rimas, wiping herself with a leaf.

We began to laugh. It was such a ridiculous sight, grabbing our knees in a circle. We actually laughed. Mother laughed so hard that her ringlets fell loose from the kerchief she had tied around her hair.

“Our sense of humor,” said Mother, her eyes pooled with laughing tears. “They can’t take that away from us, right?”

We roared with laughter. The lantern flames flickered in the dark. Joana’s brother pumped a playful tune on the accordion. My uncle, who had indulged in blackberry liquor, danced a disjointed jig around the backyard of the cottage, trying to imitate our mothers. He pretended to hold a skirt and looped from side to side.

“Come,” whispered Joana, grabbing my hand. “Let’s take a walk.”

We locked arms and walked between the dark cottages down to the beach. Sand crawled into my shoes. We stood on the shore, the water lapping near our feet. The Baltic Sea glistened in the moonlight.

“The way the moon is shining on the water, it’s like it’s beckoning us in,” sighed Joana.

“It is. It’s calling us,” I said, memorizing the light and shadow to paint later. I kicked off my sandals. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t have my bathing suit,” said Joana.

“Neither do I. So what?”

“So what? Lina, we can’t swim naked,” she said.

“Who said anything about swimming naked?” I asked.

I waded into the black water in my dress.

“Lina! For goodness’ sake, what are you doing?” gasped Joana.

I held out my arms and traced the moon shadows on the water. My skirt lifted, weightless. “C’mon, it’s lovely!” I dived under the surface.

Joana kicked off her shoes and waded into the water up to her ankles. The light reflected off of her long brown hair and tall frame.

“Come in, it’s beautiful!” I said. She waded in slowly, too slowly. I jumped up and pulled her in. She screamed and laughed. Joana’s laugh could be singled out in a crowd. It had a raw freedom that echoed around me.

“You’re crazy!” she said.

“Why am I crazy? It looked so beautiful; I wanted to be part of it,” I said.

“Will you paint us like this?” asked Joana.

“Yes, I’ll call it... Two Heads, Bobbing in Black,” I said, flicking water at her.

“I don’t want to go home. It’s just too perfect here,” she said, swirling her arms through the water. “Shh, someone’s coming.”

“Where?” I said, spinning around.

“There, in the trees,” she whispered. Two figures emerged from the trees in front of the beach. “Lina, it’s him! The tall one. The one I told you about. The one I saw in town! What do we do?”

Two boys walked to shore, looking out at us.

“A bit late for a swim, isn’t it?” said the tall boy.

“Not at all,” I said.

“Oh, really, do you always go swimming after dark?” he asked.

“I go swimming whenever I feel like it,” I said.

“And what about your older sister there? Does she always go swimming at night?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” I said. Joana kicked me underwater.

“You should be careful. You don’t want someone to see you without clothes.” He grinned.

“Really? You mean like this?” I jumped and stood up in the water. My wet dress clung to me like melted taffy to paper. I flung my arm in the water, trying to get them both wet.

“Crazy kid.” He laughed, dodging the water.

“C’mon,” said his friend. “We’ll be late for the meeting.”

“A meeting? What sort of meeting is going on at this hour?” I asked.

The boys dropped their heads for a moment. “We have to go. Good-bye, older sister,” said the tall boy to Joana before turning to walk down the beach with his friend.