Cilka's Journey(19)

“It was very lucky you had someone with you who knew to get something cold onto the burn straightaway. That has saved you from a far worse injury. As it is, you have what looks like a first-degree burn to fifty percent of your hand and eighty percent of your four fingers. Your thumb seems all right.” She looks up into Josie’s face. “You’ll need daily dressings for two weeks, and no work is to be attempted inside or outside.”

She turns to Cilka. “Pass me that tube … the one that says maz ot ozhogov.” Burn cream.

Cilka hands her the tube of cream, taking the top off as she does so.

Gently, the doctor applies the cream to Josie’s hand.

“Now look on the shelf behind you and find me a large bandage.”

Cilka does as she is told, handing back the correct item.

It is expertly wrapped around Josie’s hand, the end placed between the doctor’s teeth as she tears a small section in two, tying the ends together to hold it securely.

“Now, hand me that pad and pen on the table. I had better write a note.”

Cilka watches as she writes, folds the note and gives it to Josie.

“I have written here just what I said. You are not to work inside or outside and are to come here every day for at least the next two weeks to have the dressing changed. We will see how you are healing after that time.

“Now, Cilka…” the doctor says, “I am impressed that you were so helpful to your friend, and your writing is not as bad as you think.” She studies Cilka. “You have a capacity for languages. You know, we are understaffed here at the hospital with these new intakes. Would you like to work here?”

Cilka realizes the opportunity. In a camp there are the bad jobs—the outdoor, manual labor jobs—and then there are the good jobs. In the other place, a “good” job meant more food, and warmth, but in Cilka’s case, it also meant being repeatedly and incessantly used, and witnessing the very worst conditions in the camp. Her role as leader of Block 25 was a punishment, but one she also still feels she needs to repent for. For surviving. For trading food for cigarettes for warm clothes. While the women came in and out and went off to die. And in and out and in and out, ceaselessly.

She is dumbstruck. Again, she wonders why she always stands out. She looks at Josie, feeling that if she says yes, she will be betraying her friend. She will be betraying all of the women in the hut.

Josie says, “Of course she will.”

Cilka looks at her. Josie nods encouragement.

“I…” If Cilka refuses, will she be put in the hole? Maybe, at least, the job would mean she can smuggle more food to those who need it, or trade it for cigarettes, boots, coats for the others.

The doctor looks confused. Cilka supposes no one would ever say no.

“I don’t think I can,” she says.

“I’m sorry?” says the doctor. “We all must work.”

“And I am happy to work at the mine,” she says, but she hears how flat her voice is. Once she had thought she deserved more, or better, but she knows there is always a very great cost.

“Well,” says the doctor. “How about for the next two weeks, when Josie comes for her treatment, you help me, and then you can decide.”

Josie raises her eyebrows at Cilka, encouraging her.

Cilka slowly nods.

“Yes, thank you, Doctor. But what about Josie?”

“Let’s worry about Josie in two weeks. I’m sure we can find suitable work for her. In the meantime, I’m going to write you a note to give to your brigadier. You are to come here every day, bringing Josie; she will return to your hut after we have done her dressing but you will stay on and work.”

The doctor scribbles out another note, tears it off and hands it to Cilka.

“Now, both of you, go back to your hut and rest.”

“Excuse me,” asks Cilka, “but what do we call you?”

“I’m Dr. Kaldani, Yelena Georgiyevna. You may address me by either,” she says.

“Thank you, Yelena Georgiyevna,” both girls chorus.

They follow her back through the ward. The moans and cries of the patients make the hairs on Cilka’s neck stand up.

She will do what she’s told.

They pass through reception, head back out to the cold and the slog back to their hut.





CHAPTER 5


“I know you’re cold,” Cilka says to Josie. “But I think we should save the coal until the others come home. I’ll just add enough to keep it burning.” She wonders if she’s already trying to make up, somehow, for the fact she will be warmer than the other women for the next two weeks.

Cilka ushers Josie onto her bed, tells her to wrap the blanket tightly around herself. After placing a small amount of coal into the stove, Cilka lies down and looks across the small gap separating her from Josie. She studies the young girl’s face. Cold, fear, pain and confusion distort her features.

“Move over.”

Cilka sits and then lies down next to Josie, knowing it will be comforting to her.

Within moments she and Josie are both asleep.

They are woken by a gust of freezing air and the groans of the others returning. The women push and shove to get close to the stove, removing wet boots and wiggling toes in front of it.

“Well look who’s spent all day in bed,” says Elena.