Tatiana and Alexander: A Novel(124)

"Himmler will change his mind. They did this before in 1943, and then quickly changed when they realize their prisoners are going to be treated bad, too."

"Yes, before, when they thought they were winning the war! Since the Normandy landings, they know their days are numbered. They don't care anymore about their stranded men. You know how I know? Because since 1943, they have not asked the Red Cross to inspect the American POW facilities here in the United States."

"Why should they? They know Americans treat German prisoners good."

"No, it's because they know the war is lost."

"Himmler will change his mind," Tatiana said stubbornly. "Red Cross will inspect those camps."

"Hundreds of thousands of prisoners in hundreds of camps. At a week per camp, that's two hundred weeks, not allowing time for travel between them. Four years. What are you even thinking?"

Tatiana did not reply. She had not thought that far ahead.

"Tatiana," Edward said. "Please don't go."

Edward seemed to be taking it personally. Tatiana didn't know what to say.

"Tatiana, what about your son?"

"Isabella will take care of him."

"Forever? Will she take care of him when his mother is found dead from disease or battle wounds?"

"Edward, I not go to Europe to die."

"No? You won't be able to help it. Germany is about to become the front. Poland is in Soviet hands. What if the Soviets have been looking for you? What if you go to Poland, and are discovered by the Soviet authorities? Jane Barrington, Tatiana Metanova, what do you think they will do with you? If you go to Germany, to Poland, to Yugoslavia, to Czechoslovakia, to Hungary, you are going there to die. One way or another, you are not coming back."

That's not true, she wanted to say. But she knew the Soviets were looking for her. She knew the risks. They were enormous. And Alexander? He was minuscule. Her plan was a bad one, she knew. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Alexander had had Luga--a place--to go to. He had had Molotov, had her concrete evacuation, had a place, a name, had Lazarevo to go to. She had his death certificate. With his death certificate clutched and crumpled in her hands, she was going to travel to every POW camp open for inspection and look for him, and if he wasn't there, she would somehow make her way back to Leningrad and find Colonel Stepanov and ask him about Alexander, and if he didn't know, she would ask Generals Voroshilov and Mekhlis; she would go to Moscow and ask Stalin himself if she had to.

"Tania, please don't go," Edward repeated.

She blinked. "What is Orbeli?"

"Orbeli? You already asked me that. How should I know? I don't know. What does Orbeli have to do with anything?"

"He said, `Remember Orbeli' to me last time I saw him. Maybe Orbeli is place somewhere in Europe where I supposed to meet him."

"Before you leave your child to go to the front, shouldn't you find out what Orbeli is?"

"I tried," she said. "I couldn't find out: no one knows."

"Oh, Tania. It's most likely nothing."

Edward's anxiety ate at Tatiana's insides. How to justify it? "My son will be fine," she said feebly.

"Without a father, without a mother?"

"Isabella is wonderful woman."

"Isabella is a stranger, a sixty-year-old stranger! Isabella is not his mother. When she is dead, what do you think will happen to Anthony?"

"Vikki take care of him."

Edward laughed joylessly. "Vikki can't take care of tying the bow on her blouse. Vikki can't come in on time, can't tell time. Vikki beats not to your son, not even to you, or her grandparents, but to herself. I pray Vikki never has children of her own. Vikki doesn't help you take care of Anthony now. What makes you think she will take care of him when her only emotional link with him--you--is gone? How long do you think she will keep that up?" Edward took a deep breath. "And do you know where they will send him when he is an orphan? The city home for boys. Maybe before you travel to Europe to kill yourself, you should take a look at one of those places to see where your fifteen-month-old son will end up."

Tatiana paled.

"You haven't thought this through," said Edward. "I know that. Because if you had, you wouldn't do it. I know that for a fact. Do you know how I know?"

"How?" she asked faintly.

"I know," Edward said, taking her hands, "because I've seen what you do for the people who come Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

through the golden door. I know because you, Tatiana, always do the right thing."

She made no reply.

"He already lost a father," Edward said. "Don't let your son lose a mother, too. You're the only thing he has in this world that connects him to himself and to the past and to his destiny. Once he loses you, he will be an unmoored ship for the rest of his life. That's what you will do to him. That will be your legacy to him."

Tatiana was mute. She felt suddenly and acutely cold. Edward squeezed her hands. "Tania," he said. "Not for Vikki, not for me, not for the veterans upstairs, or for the immigrants at Ellis, but for your son--don't go."