Between Shades of Gray(44)
I stared at our family picture, sitting at the empty seat. We had always spent Christmas at home, with bells tinkling in the streets, and warm smells wafting from the kitchen. I pictured the dining room dark, the chandelier laced in cobwebs, and the table covered in a fine layer of dust. I thought of Papa. What was he doing for Christmas? Did he have a tiny piece of chocolate to melt on his tongue?
The door to the shack blew open. The NKVD pushed inside, pointing guns at us.
“Davai!” yelled a guard, grabbing the man who wound his watch. People began to protest.
“Please, it’s Christmas Eve,” pleaded Mother. “Don’t try to make us sign on Christmas Eve.”
The guards yelled and began pushing people out of the shack. I wasn’t leaving without Papa. I scrambled over to the other side of the table. I grabbed our family photo and stuffed it up my dress. I would hide it on the way to the kolkhoz office. Kretzsky didn’t notice. He stood motionless, holding his rifle, staring at all the photographs.
52
THEY WORKED US hard on Christmas Day. I stumbled from fatigue, having had no sleep the night before. When I returned to the shack, I could barely walk. Mother had given Ulyushka a whole package of cigarettes for Christmas. She sat, with her feet propped up near the stove, smoking. Where had Mother gotten the cigarettes? I couldn’t understand why Mother gave anything to Ulyushka.
Jonas arrived with Andrius.
“Merry Christmas,” he said.
“Thank you for the chocolate,” said Mother. “We were beside ourselves.”
“Andrius, wait a minute,” said Jonas. “I have something for you.”
“I have something for you, too,” I said. I reached into my suitcase and pulled out a sheet of paper. I handed it to Andrius.
“It’s not very good,” I said, “but it’s a better angle. Smaller nostrils.”
“It’s great,” said Andrius, looking at my drawing.
“Really? ”
His eyes flashed up, locking on mine. “Thank you.”
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. “Merry Christmas,” I finally said.
“Here,” said Jonas, holding out his hand. “It was yours, then you gave it to Lina. She gave it to me when I was sick. I survived, so I figure it must be pretty lucky. I think it’s your turn to have it.” Jonas opened his fingers to reveal the stone with the sparkles inside. He handed it to Andrius.
“Thanks. I guess this thing is lucky,” said Andrius, looking at the stone.
“Merry Christmas,” said Jonas. “And thanks for the tomatoes.”
“I’ll walk back with you,” said Mother. “I’d like to wish your mother a Merry Christmas, if she can steal away for a moment.”
Jonas and I lay on our straw, bundled in our coats and boots.
“Remember when we used to sleep in pajamas?” asked Jonas.
“Yes, with goose-down covers,” I said. My body sank into the straw and into the quiet. I felt the chill of the hard ground slowly creeping onto my back and up over my shoulders.
“I hope Papa has a goose-down blanket tonight,” said Jonas.
“Me, too,” I said. “Merry Christmas, Jonas.”
“Merry Christmas, Lina.”
“Merry Christmas, Papa,” I whispered.
53
“LINA!” SAID ANDRIUS, running into our shack. “Hurry, they’re coming for you.”
“Who?” I asked, startled. I had just returned from work.
“The commander and Kretzsky are on their way now.”
“What? Why?” gasped Mother.
I thought of the stolen ink pen, hidden in my suitcase. “It’s ... I ... stole a pen,” I said.
“You did what?” said Mother. “How could you be so foolish! Stealing from the NKVD?”
“It’s not about a pen,” said Andrius. “The commander wants you to draw his portrait.”
I stopped and turned to Andrius. “What?”
“He’s an egomaniac,” said Andrius. “He went on about needing a portrait for the kolkhoz office, a portrait for his wife—”
“His wife?” said Jonas.
“I can’t do it,” I said. “I can’t concentrate around him.” I looked at Andrius. “He makes me uncomfortable.”
“I’m going with you,” said Mother.
“He won’t allow it,” said Andrius.
“I’ll break my hands if I have to. I can’t do it,” I said.
“Lina, you will do nothing of the sort,” said Mother.
“If you break your hands, you won’t be able to work,” said Andrius. “And if you can’t work, you’ll starve to death.”
“Do they know she has other drawings?” Jonas said quietly. Andrius shook his head.
“Lina.” Andrius lowered his voice. “You have to make the picture ... flattering.”
“You’re telling me how to draw?” I said.
He sighed. “I like your drawings. Some are very realistic, but some, they’re, well, twisted.”
“But I draw what I see,” I said.
“You know what I mean,” said Andrius.