The Forest of Vanishing Stars(24)

“You said you once lived outside the woods,” he said.

“Yes.”

“How long ago did you move into the forest?”

“I was only a little girl.” She could feel him watching her again as she looked west, where the sun set each night, where somewhere there was a family that belonged to her. “I hardly remember it.”

“But where did you—” he began.

“And you?” she interrupted before he could ask more questions she didn’t know how to answer. “Where are you from? You said you were a bookkeeper?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. I was raised in Mir, and my parents were very firm that my brothers and I would have good Jewish educations. In school, we learned Latin, Polish, physics, chemistry, history, religion of course, even psychology. But nothing prepared us for what was to come. When the Russians arrived, it was terrible. They took everything; we were suddenly very poor. And though there were some refugees from the west who told us about ghettos in Germany, we hardly believed it. We actually thought things would be better if the Germans drove the Soviets out. At least then, we thought, we could make some money. Who could have known that instead of money, they would bring death? Within just a few weeks of arriving, they had allied with the local police, and together they brought several prominent Jews from our town seven miles outside the forest and stoned them to death after forcing them to dig their own graves. It was a warning to all of us.”

The sunshine suddenly felt very cold. “Oh, Aleksander.”

“Can you imagine such a thing?” He seemed to be talking only to himself. “It was not so long ago that I had a good business, a life in front of me, family I loved. And now… now, all of it is gone. I fear that those who chose to remain in the ghetto will die, but what guarantee is there that we will survive?”

“There is no guarantee for any of us,” Yona said when she could finally find her voice. “But you will survive.” She swallowed, the taste of the impossible promise bitter in her mouth. “You will hide here in the forest, and you will learn how to find food and shelter, and you will live.”

“How can I believe such a thing?” he whispered.

She met his gaze. It was warm, and it seemed to penetrate her. No one had ever looked at her that way before, with a blend of gratitude, fear, and something else she couldn’t put a finger on. “Believe in me,” she said. “Believe that perhaps God has led me here to help you.”

He looked at her for a long time. “I think maybe I do believe that, Yona.”

And then, because her cheeks felt as if they were on fire, and because it felt as if his eyes were burning a hole right through her, she stood abruptly and turned away, heading for the stream. She had intended to check the net, but instead, the cool water greeted her, and she found herself wading upstream until the water was waist-deep. She took a deep breath and submerged herself. Only after she was beneath the surface did the heat flooding through her body finally disappear.



* * *



An hour later, her hair and clothes almost dry thanks to the relentless sun, Yona gathered another basketful of fish, and after packing up the net and handing it to Aleksander, she hoisted her rucksack on her back and made herself smile, though her heart was thudding in fear. This was it, the moment her life would change. What would his people think of her? How would they react? Would they want to cast her out, as Chana’s mother had, because she wasn’t one of them? She was lying when she took a deep breath and told Aleksander, “I’m ready.”

He searched her eyes, nodded, and gave her a small smile in return. “Shall we go?”

They walked for the first thirty minutes in comfortable silence. Aleksander seemed to understand that Yona would need the solitude for a short time, at least, before her world opened up.

“Who is with you?” she asked abruptly as they paused to trudge through the shallow water of a stream. Dozens of tiny fish darted away from their footfalls, a silver starburst of fear beneath the surface. “In your camp, I mean.”

“You’re trying to prepare yourself.”

“I suppose I am.”

“Don’t be afraid, Yona. They will all be as grateful as I am.” He gave her a small smile. “Well, you’ve met Leib. His mother is with us, too. Miriam. She’s a kind woman, but her eyes are empty now; the rest of her family—Leib’s father, her two younger children—were killed. She—she seems in a trance sometimes, like she is somewhere else.”

“I’m so sorry,” Yona said, and Aleksander extended a hand to help her out of the stream. She didn’t need it, but she took it anyhow, liking the way his fingers laced with hers, the strength of them, but also his gentleness. She didn’t want to let go, but she did, for what use was holding hands on solid ground?

“Oscher and Bina are husband and wife,” he went on as they began walking through the trees again. “It’s a miracle they survived together, both with their relative health, though Oscher has a limp that slows him down. They are grandparents, but their children and grandchildren are all gone. Murdered.” His tone was flat, empty. “Every one. Six children. Thirteen grandchildren.”

He paused for a second, and in the space between his words, Yona tried to comprehend two whole generations snuffed out, an entire future halted before it had begun, a familial legacy that would never be.