The Forest of Vanishing Stars(18)

The man called Aleksander dove thrice more into the water, trying to catch fish with his bare hands, before finally sitting down hard on the streambank with a heavy sigh. His back was to Yona, and she could see the tension knotting it through his wet shirt. Water dripped from his hair onto his collar, and as he reached up to scratch his head, he let out an almost inhuman moan of despair. “My God, what will I do?”

“I—I can help.” Yona heard her own voice before she had actually formed the intent to reveal herself. She spoke in Yiddish, because it was the language the man had been speaking moments before. The man scrambled to his feet at once and turned, searching the forest for the source of the sound before his gaze settled on her.

He blinked a few times, confusion washing over his features, as she forced herself to step from the trees. There was no turning back now. They regarded each other for a few long seconds. She could feel her heart thudding against her rib cage.

“Amkha?” he asked after a moment, his expression wary, uncertain.

It was a Hebrew word, one that roughly meant “the nation of people.” He was asking if she was one of them, a fellow Jew, but the question was the one that had been tormenting her, the one she couldn’t answer, so she merely shrugged.

“Where did you come from?” he asked at last.

She hesitated. This was a mistake. His friend would return at any moment, and then what? But in an instant, she saw Chana’s face in her mind’s eye and she felt the weight of her failure. She couldn’t turn away, not again. “I come from the forest,” she said simply.

A small smile pulled at the left corner of his lips. “I see that. I meant to ask where you came from before that.”

“The forest,” she repeated, and she watched as his brow creased.

“The forest.” He scratched his head. “But you speak Yiddish.” She could see him trying to puzzle her out.

“You do, too,” she replied, but offered no explanation. “You need help.”

“I—” He started and stopped. “I have people to feed. People who are relying on me. I—I was only a bookkeeper before this. If you need me to run some numbers for you, no problem, but surviving in the woods…” He forced a smile, seemingly trying to make the moment feel lighter, but his eyes gave him away, and finally, his gaze fell. “You see, they need me, and I don’t know what to do.”

She nodded. They stared at each other for a long time, and then Yona took a deep breath and started forward, her blood pulsing hot through her veins. “You are trying to grab the pike because they are larger, but that’s difficult using only your hands. There are dace in the water, too, very small fish, plenty of them, much easier to catch. You just need to know how.”

He studied her as she came closer, so close that she could feel the way his presence rippled the air between them. The current made her want to run away, but it also made her want to draw closer. Paralyzed, she stood frozen in place. “Who are you?” he asked softly, looking down at her.

It was a simple question, but it stilled her for a moment. How could she reply when she didn’t know the answer herself? So she let her eyes slide away. “I am the person who will help you feed your people tonight. All right?”

He stared at her for a minute more before chuckling to himself, though not unkindly. He took a step back. “All right.”

They locked eyes for a few long seconds; then she turned away and, with her back to him, quickly removed her boots, rolled her trouser legs a few times, and stripped off her shirt, leaving only a thin undershirt beneath. She could hear the intake of his breath as she turned back around and stepped into the stream. The water was cold, bracing, as it burbled around her ankles. She lowered her shirt into the water, making an opaque net of it. She waded deeper, not minding that she was getting her clothes wet. The sun was hot and would easily dry them, and they were in need of a wash anyhow. She stood still, hardly breathing, until the fish forgot she was there, wiggling all around her, their silver scales glimmering in the sun, catching the light. And then, so quickly that if the man had blinked, he would have missed it, she scooped her shirt up in one quick motion, curving it into a half-sphere so that nothing could escape over the sides as the water drained. Within the fabric, seven small fish gasped and flailed. She held them up to him and smiled. “See?”

His mouth hung slightly open as he looked from Yona to the bundle of fish and back. “How did you…?”

“You have to become a part of the water.”

He blinked a few times and then waded into the water beside her. He pulled off his shirt, revealing taut skin browned by the sun, stretched over sinewy muscles. She was suddenly very conscious of him as the ripples from his movement lapped against her legs. He stayed still for a few seconds, trailing his shirt in the water, but it wasn’t long enough, and when he yanked the makeshift net out, the fish scattered, and he came up empty. “You made it look easy,” he said, looking up at Yona with chagrin.

“I have been doing this nearly all my life.” She realized only as the words left her mouth that she had just confided something to him, told him something about herself. She hadn’t intended to. “You will learn.” She felt exposed under his gaze, but she was surprised to realize that it didn’t bother her, not like she’d thought it would. He was looking right at her, and there was something about being seen that reminded her that she wasn’t just a ghost, a spirit in the woods. “How many do you need to feed?” she asked him.