Cilka's Journey(82)
“Do you live in the nurse’s quarters?”
“I live in Hut 29.”
The commandant turns to the doctor. “She may move into the nurse’s quarters.”
With that, he leaves, his entourage trailing behind him.
Cilka slides down the wall that had been holding her up, trembling.
Yelena helps her to her feet.
“You must be exhausted. It’s been quite a time for you. Let’s find a bed here for you to sleep in for one more night. I don’t want you going back to your hut tonight, and tomorrow we’ll talk about moving you.”
Cilka allows herself to be led away.
CHAPTER 27
Cilka wakes up on the ward and can see clear blue skies outside the window. Sunrise has been creeping forward, and the coming light makes her think about the women in her hut even more.
When Yelena comes in, Cilka tells her, “I’m so grateful for the offer to sleep in the nurses’ quarters, but I’ve decided I want to stay where I am.”
Yelena looks at her, stunned.
“If it’s all right, I’d like to stay with my friends.”
“Where you are unsafe…”
Cilka knows that Yelena is aware of what happens at night, in the camp—she has seen the injuries. Cilka understands why it might seem unfathomable.
“Where my friends are,” she says again. Olga, Elena, Margarethe, Anastasia. And, she thinks fearfully, if Hannah has told them, then I need to face up to that. To her. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
Yelena takes a deep breath. “It’s your decision and I’ll respect it. Should you change your mind…”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
She has to go back because the women Cilka shares a hut with have become her family. Yes, they don’t always agree. There have been many fights, some of them physical, but that is what large, complex families endure. She remembers the arguments and pushing and shoving that went on between her and her sister while they were growing up. But the cooperation, and the sharing, outweighed the conflict. Women had come and gone, but the central unity of the hut remained, with the gruff Antonina Karpovna an integral part.
* * *
When Cilka enters the hut the women look at her sadly. They know, she thinks. She could walk straight back out, but she forces herself to stay, to face them.
“Oh, Cilka,” Margarethe says. “Olga has gone.”
“What do you mean, gone?” Cilka asks, forcing a deep breath.
“They took her away this morning as we were going to work. Her sentence was up.”
“But I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Cilka says. She doesn’t know if she can fit any more missing inside her.
“She said to say goodbye to you. Be happy for her, Cilka. She will be able to go back to her children.”
Anastasia enters the hut, joins them. “Cilka! Did they tell you?”
“Yes,” Cilka replies. “I’ll miss her.”
Anastasia wraps her arms around Cilka.
“We missed you.”
* * *
The hut is unusually quiet that night, Olga’s empty bed a constant reminder that she has gone, and they are left behind.
Several men come after lights out, including Boris. He is subdued. Cilka lies quietly beside him.
“Don’t you ever want to talk about us?” he finally asks.
“I don’t know what you mean by us.”
“You and me, what we mean to each other. You never tell me how you’re feeling.”
“What do you care? You just want my body.”
Boris leans on one elbow, trying in the dark to see Cilka’s face, to read her expression, look into her eyes.
“What would you think if I told you I’m in love with you.”
Cilka doesn’t respond for several moments. He waits.
“That’s a very nice thing to say.”
“I really thought about it when you were away, in the hospital. And what do you feel for me?”
Nothing, she thinks. I have merely tolerated you. And not for the first time, the kind, attractive face of Alexandr comes into her head. But she should not tease herself like this.
“Boris, you are a very nice man; there is no one in this camp I would rather have lying with me,” she says, able to make out his ruddy nose, the wetness on his lips in the half-light. She looks back at the ceiling.
“But do you love me?”
“I don’t know what love is. If I was to allow myself to fall in love with someone, I would have to believe there was a future. And there isn’t.”
But she does know that it is possible for her to be drawn to someone, in the way she has heard people speak about. It is also cruel to be so drawn to someone in a place like this.
“How can you be sure? We could have a future together. We won’t spend the rest of our lives here.”
It is better to feel nothing, she thinks.
“Do you see that empty bed over there?”
Boris peers into the dark.
“No.”
“Well, there is an empty bed. Olga slept there every night since the day we arrived here.”
“Yes…” Boris says, uncertain.