What men?
The killers. Which means it wasn’t only Germans, but Soviets too, you see? It was a disaster for her. There was only one story she told about it when she came back from the concentration camp in Siberia. The one about the galoshes. It freaked me out, you know. The horror of it.
So who’s your husband, then? I wanted to know everything about this girl.
Kagan.
I stop in my tracks. So she’s married to that harsh old man. I turn around, so she can’t see my face.
She touches my shoulder. It’s good that you’re with us. I’m glad.
I don’t see any smoke above the museum. We can go downhill now.
Want to know how we met?
Absolutely.
I was just a little girl, but I couldn’t get it out of my brain, Maruška says. The world is a place of horror, that’s all I kept thinking. Because of what happened. The killing. That’s what people are capable of. And it’s going to happen again. What do I do?
Uh-huh! I say. I knew that one.
Whenever anyone looked at me, the first thing I’d do is think to myself: Will they hide me or turn me in, when the time comes again? I’d walk in someplace and right away: Where would I hide? The attic? The wardrobe? And it just kept getting worse. I thought maybe I should just kill myself. I mean, the world’s so ugly and full of cruelty. People are evil.
I look at Maruška. Talking about what it was like for her. She didn’t look at all like a bunk seeker, though.
Alex brought me to Kagan. A million people died in the concentration camps in Belarus. But not Kagan. A lot of people like me went to see him. They still do.
He went through it all as a little boy. They killed all his people. He was in the ghetto when it burned. Dug himself out of a mass grave. Saw people eating people. And he was able to talk about it. We listened. And we laughed together. You can live with all the horror and in spite of it. He taught us that. He rid me of my obsession. You give everything to a person like that. If that’s what he wants.
Hm.
She stops in the middle of the slope. Giggles. She must’ve popped another pill. Yep, she digs around in her satchel and hands me one too. I swallow it down with a handful of snow.
Remember how we had to run for it from the Falvarek?
Yeah!
We both giggle a while.
This Devil’s Workshop’s going to mean work for a lot of people. Maintenance men, technicians. Security guards, guides, all of that. And tourists bring money. It’s only right that the descendants of the people who got murdered should get some cash out of it, don’t you think? Anyway, there’s nobody else around here. And when I get old, I can live in peace and be the dezhurnaya. In our museum.
She’s walking next to me like she’s used to it. Not being careful at all. She doesn’t realize I’ve got to get out of here. Alex is still in there. Rolf. The partisans will kill me.
For a second a flash of sunlight shines through the drizzle and mist. Her uniform’s covered in stains. But her hair is glowing. She keeps laughing. I’m laughing too. She’ll never run away with me. She’s got kids.
We come to the bottom of the hill. The forest starts here. Birches. I stop. There’s one more thing I want to know.
Did you give Lebo an injection too? When you guys brought him here?
Yeah. We got you into Minsk under the Czech-Belarusian agreement on transportation of prisoners. Greased a few palms, you know how it is. Look at those trees over there!
Were you with Lebo at the hotel?
No, I was with my boys. My brother took care of him.
So do you know what’s in the museum?
Are you crazy? I’ll see it on opening day. It’ll be great! There’ll be people coming from Minsk and all over the place. I’ll put on my ceremonial uniform. I can’t go in this. See? She stuck a slender finger through a hole in her coat and wiggled it around.
A beautiful woman like you could go dressed in a potato sack!
Cut it out! I don’t like that kind of talk!
But she isn’t angry. And she didn’t kill Lebo. If she had, she would’ve told me.
Look, you can go over there in those trees! I’ll turn around.
I go down to the trees, peel off a strip of bark. Anything happening? No. I have to do it. I’ll be gentle. I start back uphill towards her.
Hey, wait a sec, she says. She smells it too. The smoke. Carried here on a gust of wind. The thick smoke of a fire.
Stop! she shouts.
I speed up. I want to put the bark over her mouth so she can’t scream. Knock her down. Put her to sleep.
I ram into her full force, she sinks to her knees, head twisted back. Did she faint? Has she had enough? But then suddenly she’s like an animal, springing up from her knees, the needle bounces off the piece of bark I’m holding up. She comes at me again, I sidestep, grab her hand, we slip, she falls on top of me, jams the needle into her thigh. Not a sigh. Nothing. This is not what I wanted.
That’s what I keep telling myself, this is not what I wanted, Maruška, this is not what I wanted. I carry her down the hill in my arms to the dead village, lean her up against a wall, there’s still red in her cheeks, she’s breathing. I pick her back up and suddenly a burst of flame leaps from the roof of the cabin below us, green and orange fiery serpents creeping across the museum roof. The sound of cracking and muffled blows carries to us on the wind. The rafters caving in, or that chemical stuff blowing up.
I lay her on the bed in the tent. Maruška. You only got what you were going to give to me. So this is your sleep of the just. I take off her boots. Loosen the belt on her jacket. Cover her up. They’ve got all kinds of blankets and sleeping bags.
I fish around in her satchel. Swallow a blue one, put a handful in my pocket.
She’s also got scissors in there. I’ll just snip off a single strand, she won’t even notice. Not that I’m some kind of pervert! I just don’t know how to say goodbye.
I wrap a red strand of her hair around my fingers. Hold it up against the sky, as the flames swallow up the museum. The sky is red.
I just stay like that.
With her.
I don’t have much time, though.
Where will I go?
I fish around in my memory: it’s there, stored in the database, the address. I probably have the envelope too, somewhere. Or maybe not.
I wouldn’t work with Mr Mára, not a chance. But I’ve got money. From the game. It might be enough to make a fresh start, I fantasize.
It’s a nice fantasy.
I feed the stove. A lot. She needs warmth.
And then I hear it.
The tractor. Good thing it’s so noisy. I see Red Cap in the driver’s seat. And there are others. So I slip out under the canvas, vanish into the mist.
13
Through birches, bushes, sparse vegetation, over the nearly frozen snow. I don’t want to go back in the woods. I have a panic attack, out on the plain, but then I see a big black blot in the distance. Could be a marsh, a grove of trees, but it might also be a house, a place with walls where I can draw strength. Maybe at least some boulders, a hole in the ground. A ditch, a gully, a place to hide and watch the world go by.
The attack passes. I look down, focusing my eyes on the ground, and walk. An island of blackness lies in the twilight ahead like a prospect of hope.