Between Shades of Gray(6)

8


“IT’S OKAY, DARLING. We’re all okay,” said Mother, hugging Jonas, kissing his face and tears. “Right, Lina? We’re all okay.”

“Right,” I said quietly.

Jonas, still crying, put his hands in front of his trousers, humiliated by the wetness.

“Don’t worry about that, my love. We’ll get you a change of clothes,” said Mother, moving in front of him to shield his embarrassment. “Lina, give your brother your coat.”

I peeled off my coat and handed it to Mother.

“See, you’ll just wear this for a short while.”

“Mother, why did he want to take me away?” asked Jonas.

“I don’t know, dear. But we’re together now.”

Together. There we stood on the train platform amidst the chaos, me in my flowered nightgown and my brother in a baby blue summer coat that nearly touched the ground. As ridiculous as we must have looked, no one even glanced at us.

“Mrs. Vilkas, hurry!” It was the nasal voice of Miss Grybas, the spinster teacher from school. She urged us toward her. “We’re over here. Hurry now, they’re splitting people up.”

Mother grabbed Jonas’s hand. “Come, children.” We made our way through the crowd, like a small boat cutting through a storm, unsure if we’d be sucked in or stay afloat. Red wooden train cars lined the platform, stretching in links as far as the eye could see. They were crudely built and dirty, the kind that would haul livestock. Masses of Lithuanians thronged toward them with their belongings.

Mother maneuvered us through the crowd, pushing and pulling our shoulders. I saw white knuckles clutching suitcases. People were on their knees crying, tying erupting bags with twine while officers stepped on the contents. Wealthy farmers and their families carried buckets of slopping milk and rounds of cheese. A small boy walked by holding a sausage nearly as big as his body. He dropped it and it immediately disappeared underfoot in the crowd. A woman bumped my arm with a sterling candlestick while a man ran by holding an accordion. I thought of our beautiful things, smashed on the floor at our house.

“Hurry!” shouted Miss Grybas, gesturing to us. “This is the Vilkas family,” she said to an officer holding a clipboard. “They’re in this car.”

Mother stopped in front of the car and scanned the crowd intently. Please, said her eyes as she searched for our father.

“Mother,” whispered Jonas, “these cars are for pigs and cows.”

“Yes, I know. We’ll have a little adventure, won’t we?” She boosted Jonas up into the car and then I heard the sounds—a baby crying and a man moaning.

“Mother, no,” I said. “I don’t want to be with those people.”

“Stop it, Lina. They need our help.”

“Can’t someone else help them? We need help, too.”

“Mother,” said Jonas, worried the train would begin to move. “You’re coming in, aren’t you?”

“Yes, darling, we’re coming. Can you take this bag?” Mother turned to me. “Lina, we haven’t a choice. Please do the best you can not to frighten your brother.”

Miss Grybas reached down for Mother. What about me? I was frightened, too. Didn’t that matter? Papa, where are you? I looked around the train platform, which was now in complete pandemonium. I thought about running, running until I couldn’t run anymore. I’d run to the university to look for Papa. I’d run to our house. I’d just run.

“Lina.” Mother stood in front of me now and lifted my chin. “I know. This is horrible,” she whispered. “We must stay together. It’s very important.” She kissed my forehead and turned me toward the train car.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Do we have to be in these cattle cars?”

“Yes, but I’m sure it won’t be for long,” said Mother.





9


THE INSIDE OF THE car was stuffy and full of personal smells, even with the door open. People were wedged in everywhere, sitting on their belongings. At the end of the car, large planks of wood approximately six feet deep had been installed as shelves. Ona lay on one of the planks, peaked, the baby crying on her chest.

“OW!” The bald man smacked my leg. “Watch it, girl! You almost stepped on me.”

“Where are the men?” Mother asked Miss Grybas.

“They took them away,” she replied.

“We’ll need men in this car to help with the injured,” said Mother.

“There aren’t any. We’re sorted into groups of some kind. They keep bringing people and shoving them in. There are some elderly men, but they haven’t any strength,” said Miss Grybas.

Mother looked around the car. “Let’s put the little ones on the top plank. Lina, move Ona on that bottom plank so we can fit some more of the children.”

“Don’t be a fool, woman,” barked the bald man. “If you make room, they’ll just cram more people in here.”

The librarian was shorter than me and stocky. She was strong and helped move Ona. “I’m Mrs. Rimas,” she said to Ona.

Mrs. ... She was married, too. Where was her husband? Perhaps with Papa. The baby gave a blistering yell.