Between Shades of Gray(66)


“Did you apologize?” asked Mother, gazing at me through heavy eyelids.

“To whom?”

“To Nikolai. You told him you hated him.”

“I do hate him,” I said. “He could help us. He chooses not to.”

“He helped me,” said Mother softly.

I looked down at her.

“That day when I went to meet the grouchy woman coming back from the village, it was dark. Some NKVD drove by. They began to taunt me. They lifted my dress. Nikolai came. He shooed the others off. He drove me the rest of the way. I begged him to find news of your father. We met the grouchy woman on the road in the dark. Nikolai dropped us three kilometers from camp. We walked the rest of the way. See,” she said, lifting her face to mine, “that helped me. And I think the commander found out about it. Nikolai was punished for it. I think that’s why he’s here.”

“He deserves to be here. Maybe he’ll get sick and everyone will ignore him. Then he’ll see how it feels. He could get a doctor for us!”

“Lina, think of what your father would say. A wrongdoing doesn’t give us the right to do wrong. You know that.”

I thought about Papa. She was right. He would say something like that.

Jonas walked into the jurta. “How is she?” he asked.

I put my hand on Mother’s forehead. “She still has a high fever.”

“Darling,” said Mother to Jonas. “I’m so very cold. Are you cold?”

Jonas took off his coat and handed it to me. He lay down beside Mother, wrapping himself around her. “Okay, put the coat on top of us. Get the small hide from Ulyushka,” said Jonas.

“Ulyushka,” said Mother fondly.

“I’ll warm you, Mother,” said Jonas, kissing her cheek.

“I feel better already,” she said.





79


I PRACTICED THE Russian words. Doctor. Medicine. Mother. Please. My stomach jumped. I clutched the stone. I heard Andrius’s voice. Don’t give them anything, Lina. Not even your fear.

It wasn’t just Mother. The man who wound his watch was sick. Janina’s mother was sick. If I could just get some medicine. I hated the thought of asking them for anything. The NKVD had killed Papa. I hated them for it. I couldn’t let them do the same to Mother.

I saw Kretzsky near the NKVD barracks. He stood with Ivanov. I waited. I wanted to speak to Kretzsky alone. Time passed. I had to go to work in order to get my ration. I trudged through the snow toward them.

“Look, it’s a little pig,” said Ivanov.

“My mother is sick,” I said.

“Really?” he said, feigning concern. “I think I know something that might help.”

I looked at him.

“Give her plenty of sunshine, fresh fruits, and lots of vegetables.” He laughed at his own sick joke.

“We need a doctor. We need medicine,” I said, shivering.

“What else do you need? A bathhouse? A school? Well, you better get building. Davai!”

I looked at Kretzsky.

“Please, help me. We need a doctor. We need medicine. My mother is sick.”

“There is no doctor,” said Kretzsky.

“Medicine,” I said. “We need medicine.”

“Do you want another twenty years?” yelled Ivanov. “I can give you that. No bread today, you ingrate. Get to work! Davai!”

I didn’t get a doctor. I didn’t get medicine. I lost my ration and humiliated myself in the process. I began walking to the trees. I had forgotten what the sun felt like on my face. When I closed my eyes, I could see sunlight in Lithuania, and on Andrius’s hair. But I couldn’t imagine the sun on the Laptev Sea. Even if we did make it through the winter, would we have the strength to build things? Could we really build a bathhouse and a school? Who would be left to teach?

I couldn’t lose Mother. I would fight. I would do whatever it took. She trembled, slipping in and out of sleep. Jonas and I sandwiched her between us, trying to warm and comfort her. Mrs. Rimas heated bricks to warm her feet. Janina picked the lice off her eyelashes.

The bald man leaned over and tucked his ration under Mother’s hand. “Come on, woman. You’re better than this. You’ve got children to take care of, for God’s sake,” he said.

Hours passed. Mother’s teeth chattered. Her lips turned blue.

“J-Jonas, keep this.” She handed him Papa’s wedding band. “It’s full of love. Nothing is more important.”

Mother’s trembling increased. She whimpered between breaths. “Please,” she pleaded, staring at us with urgent eyes. “Kostas.”

We held her between us, our arms curled around her withered body.

Jonas breathed quickly. His frightened eyes searched mine. “No,” he whispered. “Please.”





80


JANUARY 5. Jonas held Mother through the lonely morning hours, rocking her gently, as she used to do with us. Mrs. Rimas tried to feed her and massage circulation into her limbs. She couldn’t eat or speak. I warmed bricks and shuttled them back and forth from the stove. I sat next to her, rubbing her hands and telling stories from home. I described every room in our house in detail, even the pattern on the spoons in the kitchen drawer. “The cake is in the oven baking and it’s hot in the kitchen, so you’ve decided to open the window over the sink and let the warm breeze in. You can hear children playing outside,” I told her.

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