by Kelli Stuart
When the sun begins to dip below the horizon, Valeri stands and stretches. “I must go,” he says. He turns to look at me with dark eyes. “You need to sleep and make sure the child sleeps. I’ll be here at daybreak, as soon as I can safely walk along the streets. I will come for you, and we’ll leave before the rest of the town stirs. Be ready and have only what you can carry with you.”
I nod. “Thank you,” I whisper. Valeri grunts in return. He and Alexei kiss cheeks quickly, and in a moment he is off. I’m left alone with my grieving family. They all look at me, sorrow etched deep in their faces. Baba Mysa holds a now sleeping Sasha tightly, rocking him back and forth against her chest.
I walk to where she’s seated and crouch in front of her. “You’re the only babushka I have ever known,” I whisper. “You fought for me and loved me, and it’s because of you that I survived the darkest and most terrible days of my life. I’m so sorry to cause you such pain and sorrow.” My voice catches, and I take a halting breath. Baba looks at me, her eyes swimming but soft.
“My Luda,” she says, her voice quiet and gentle. “You are a joy, and I could not be more proud of you. Thank you for letting me love you, and thank you for giving me the gift of time with this baby boy. I will miss you both forever.”
I lay my head in Baba Mysa’s lap and weep until I’m exhausted. We all cry now, even Oleg, who sits in the corner with his back to us. I see his shoulders quake, and I cannot bear the weight of this sorrow.
Finally, Alexei stands. “Valeri’s right. Luda, you need to get some sleep. Hans will be by sometime tonight, and you’ll leave early. You must be alert if you’re to make it through the next few days.”
I nod and stand up, the room spinning. Baba Mysa stands up slowly and hands me my sleeping child. “Take care, my Sashinka,” she whispers in his ear, and she lays a soft, tender kiss on his cheek. She turns and walks to the kitchen where we all hear her sink heavily into a chair and sob bitterly. I turn and walk into the bedroom with Katya close behind me.
“You don’t have to go, Luda,” she says, her voice pleading. “Please. Please stay with us.”
“I can’t, Katya. I wish I could, but I know that I cannot. This is the only way we all stay safe.”
“But what if something happens to you?” Katya asks, her voice rising. “What if you’re caught or hurt?”
“Katya, I think if I stay here, we’ll all be caught and hurt.” I look at Sasha. “I can’t risk that.”
Katya is silent. She looks down at the floor, totally dejected and lost. I lay Sasha down on his pad of blankets, and I turn to Katya, pulling her into my arms.
“If it wasn’t for you, I think I would already be dead,” I say as she cries on my shoulder. “You rescued me and brought me into your home and shared your family with me. You rescued both of us,” I say, gesturing to my sleeping child.
“I love you, Luda,” Katya says, and I squeeze her tight.
“I love you,” I whisper.
After a few minutes, Katya pushes back and brushes the tears from her eyes. She looks at me and gives me a small, mischievous grin. “You’ve changed, you know.” I tilt my head to the side with a crooked smile.
“What do you mean?”
“When you first came to us, you were so shy and quiet and scared. You were like this little mouse. You were afraid of men, afraid of your own shadow. And now look at you. You’re a mother, you had a wild secret love affair with a German, and you’re about to escape the country all by yourself.” Katya grins wider. “You’re amazing,” she says, and despite the weight of this evening, I let out a laugh.
“Amazing or crazy,” I say as I turn to lie down in my bed.
“You can be both,” Katya says, lying down. “Amazing and crazy has made you strong.”
In minutes, we’re both sound asleep.
Hans comes in the dark of night, as promised. His short, insistent raps at the door come at four o’clock, and I quickly pull myself up. When I walk into the room, I see him and Alexei talking in whispers. I stand and wait in silence, not wanting to interrupt them. Hans looks up and locks eyes with me, and Alexei stops talking. He places his hand on Hans’s arm and leads him into the kitchen, motioning me to follow.
“You two need to talk,” Alexei whispers. “Take a few moments to say your good-byes.” He walks out, and I turn to face Hans.
“My darling,” he begins. I rush into his arms. “I am so sorry,” he whispers, his face buried in my hair. “I’m so sorry I’ve put you in this terrible mess. I was a fool. I should have thought about how my actions would affect you. Forgive me, please.”
I tilt my face up to his. “Shh,” I whisper, kissing him. His hands tangle in my long, loose hair as we drink in one another. He kisses the tip of my nose gently, and I wrap my arms around his waist.
He finally pulls away and looks at me with tenderness. “Alexei told me the plan. He told me Valeri will move you through the country today and tomorrow. My contact will be at the train station in Lvov tomorrow night. He’ll get you from Poland to Germany.”
“How?” I ask.
“The hope is to get you safely across the German border by train, but should it seem too dangerous, my contact will lead you by foot and car across the border. My sister, Sophia, will meet you in Germany, and she’ll take you to a safe house in the German countryside.”
“I don’t have identification papers for Sasha,” I say, and Hans nods.
“I know. They’re creating some for you. They’ll take care of all of that before you cross into Poland.”
“But what if we’re stopped before we get into Poland and they ask for our papers?” I ask. I suddenly feel very sick.
“We can only hope that doesn’t happen. But Alexei and his men are working on their stories so that they’ll hopefully be able to talk their way out of any danger.”
“How did you set all of these plans without being caught?” I ask. I lean forward on the table as the room spins.
“I’m taking every precaution necessary to ensure that you’re well cared for and that you make it into my sister’s care safely.”
“Will your sister like me?” I ask. Hans smiles and pulls me up, turning me slowly and kissing me again.
“My sister will love you. She’s worked hard throughout the war to protect those who need protecting. She’s brave and smart, and she’ll keep you safe. We just have to get you through Poland.” A hard look passes across Hans’s face, clouding his handsome features.
“What’s wrong with Poland?” I ask.
“Death is in Poland,” he whispers.
My hands grow cold, and I lean into Hans’s chest, his heart beating loud and strong against my ear. “I’m scared, Hans,” I whisper.
“So am I, darling. But we must remember that this is our best chance to be together—just the two of us forever.”
“What will you do?” I ask.
Hans tightens his grasp around my waist as he speaks. “I’ll try to stay off their radar. I’ll give them no reason to suspect that I could have anything to do with the plot to kill Hitler. I will survive.”
His last words are a whisper, a vapor of hope that floats through the room, thin and veiled in doubt.
For several minutes, we hold tight in our embrace. I only pull away when I hear Alexei clear his throat. “It is five thirty,” Alexei says quietly. “Hans you must leave. Luda needs to get ready to go. Valeri will be here shortly.”
I look up at Hans, my eyes wide and frantic. “I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you, too. And I’ll do everything I can to come back to you. We’ll be together, my love. I know that we will.”
With a final kiss, Hans pulls away and rushes out the door. As he passes Alexei, he pauses. The two men grasp hands.
“Thank you, my friend,” Hans says with a respectful nod. Alexei returns the gesture and looks at him evenly.
“We’ll get her there safely,” he says. “But it’s time you laid low. Don’t do anything more foolish. You ne
ed to survive so that you can take care of Luda and Sasha.”
Hans nods, and with a final glance, he disappears out the door. I look at Alexei and take a deep breath. “It’s time,” I say, and Alexei nods. I hurry to the next room where Oleg, Katya, and Baba Mysa stand huddled together. I embrace Katya first, silently holding her tight. There are no words left to say.
Turning to Baba Mysa, I fall into her waiting arms. “You be careful, my Luda. And make sure you eat. It will do you no good to get skinny and sick.”
I smile and kiss her cheek. “I love you, Baba,” I say softly as I stroke her thin, wiry gray hair. “Thank you for everything,” I whisper. She covers her mouth to deny the sobs. Alexei puts his arm around his mother and pulls her to him.
Turning to Oleg, I look up at his dark, blank stare. “Oleg,” I say as I grab his hand. It’s cold and clammy. “I’m so sorry for the pain that I caused you.”
Oleg looks back at me. Slowly he leans down and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Stay safe, Luda,” he says. His voice is hollow and sad.
I rush to the bedroom and gently lift Sasha up off the bed. He’s sleeping soundly, his hair sweaty and matted against his head. I grab the small bag with a few of our things in it and put it over my shoulder. When I walk out, Baba Mysa hands me a small sack of bread and a few bananas.
“You’ll need to feed him often to keep him quiet,” she says. Tears streak her cheeks, but her voice is calm and measured, a testimony of her strength. She tucks the food in the bag on my shoulder, and we all turn at the soft rap of the door. Alexei opens the door slowly as Valeri steps in.
“Ready?” he asks. I nod my head, blinking hard. Never before have I felt such a sickening sorrow.
“Let’s go.” Valeri turns and marches out the door. I step into the hallway, stopping in front of Alexei. He leans forward and kisses Sasha gently on the head, then kisses my forehead. “Stay safe, my darling girl,” he whispers. “I hold hope that someday we’ll meet again.”
I nod, unable to speak over the lump in my throat, then step into the dark hall and hurry down the stairs. I don’t hear the door shut behind me. Alexei watches and listens until my last steps leave the building.
Valeri and I walk briskly through the early morning fog. He leads me down alleys and quiet streets. Thankfully and mercifully Sasha remains asleep on my chest, though I know it won’t be long until he wakes, and he will be hungry. My arms burn from the weight of carrying him, but I don’t speak. I simply follow my guide.
We cross a small bridge over the Dnestr River and just on the other side, a car waits. Valeri slides inside and jerks his thumb toward the back door. I pull it open and duck in quickly. When I lean over to pull the door shut, Sasha wakes up with a start and immediately begins crying.
“Quiet him down,” Valeri orders. I pull my son into me and bounce him up and down. Still he wails, so I put my finger in his mouth and he sucks furiously, but this only lasts for a moment.
“He’s hungry,” I say. Valeri nods.
“Feed him,” he orders.
I flush, then quickly untuck my shirt and pull it up. Sasha finds my breast while I do my best to remain covered as we bounce over pitted roads.
“I’ve never been in a car before,” I say quietly. Valeri doesn’t respond. Looking out the window, I watch as the countryside moves quickly past. Buildings have already given way to sprawling fields, and I realize that I’m the farthest away from home that I have ever been.
“You’ll come to know car travel very well today,” Valeri finally says.
I lean back and close my eyes. With Sasha warm against my skin and the methodical rocking of the car, I am suddenly very, very tired.
The morning drags on, and I find myself bored and almost disappointed. I expected this day to be much more dangerous and exciting, but for the better part of two hours we’ve traveled the road in quiet, almost completely alone except for a rare car or two.
Around lunchtime, as my stomach begins to growl, Valeri slows the car. “We’re coming to our first meeting point,” he says. “This is where you and I part ways. Keep the child quiet and do not make eye contact with anyone, understand?”
I nod and sit up. Sasha kicks and gurgles on my lap, but is otherwise calm and happy. Valeri pulls off the main road and turns onto a narrow, gravel drive that leads deep into the trees. As the summer sun disappears behind the towering oaks, I feel my heartbeat quicken. Sasha looks up and around, his eyes wide and curious. I stroke his head as we slow to a stop under a small grove. Valeri pushes open his door and turns to me.
“Stay here.”
He steps out of the car and disappears in the trees. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself as Sasha squirms under my tightening grasp. A few minutes later, Valeri comes back with a young man following close on his heels. He pulls open the door and leans in, his large face peering over the back of the seat with intensity.
“This is my nephew, Kostya. He’ll get you from here to Lvov. He has traveled on many partisan missions for us. He’s wise and a quick thinker. Listen to his words very carefully and do everything he says without question, understand?”
I nod. “Spaseeba, Valeri Kyrilovich,” I say softly. Valeri nods.
“Be careful, little one,” he says before ducking out. Kostya slides into the front seat and starts the car. The two men speak softly. I strain to hear what they say, but cannot make it out. In less than a minute we have backed up out of the grove and are headed toward the open stretch of road.
“If we’re stopped by the Germans or by any Soviets, you are my wife,” Kostya says, turning to glance at me. “And the child is my baby. You don’t need to speak to them unless asked a direct question. We were visiting your ailing grandmother, and we’re now headed back to our home in the Galicia district.”
I nod, but do not speak. Sasha lets out a squeal and flaps his chubby arms in the air. I hear Kostya sigh. “The child has to stay silent,” he says crisply.
“I’ll try,” I reply. I cannot mask the frustration in my voice. I don’t know how to keep a baby happy and silent in a car with little for him to touch or do. I set him on the seat next to me much to his delight. He rolls onto his knees and pushes up against my leg, his face turned up to me in rapturous delight. Despite my worry and heartache, I can’t help but smile at his innocence. The light in his eyes gives me hope.
We drive for hours, stopping once just outside of Ternopil, where Kostya puts more gasoline in the car. He brings me a piece of bread while there, which helps ease my growling stomach. I’ve tried not to eat much of the food that Baba Mysa sent with me as I know that it’s more important to keep Sasha satisfied. It’s late now. As the sun dips below the horizon, I feel a knot develop in my stomach.
“We’re just outside of Lvov,” Kostya says softly as he maneuvers around yet another pit in the road. “We’ll stop at my comrade’s house to get the passport and papers for your son, then he’ll get you to the train station where the contact will be waiting to escort you to Germany.”
“Do you know who will take me across the border?” I ask. Kostya shakes his head.
“I don’t ask for details,” he replies. We pull off the road, and he winds down a long dirt drive toward the rolling hills of the Ukrainian countryside. It’s beautiful here. The setting sun has left the sky streaked with brilliance, reds and yellows dancing across the horizon from one side to the other with painted precision. Sasha sleeps soundly in my lap now, his breathing slow and steady.
Kostya slows to a stop before a small, wooden house. He turns and looks at me, his dark black hair falling loosely over his forehead. “Come,” he says. I pull Sasha up to my chest and push the door open. Very slowly I stand up, my legs and back stiff from the day spent in the car.
“Come quickly,” Kostya says, his eyes darting left to right. “We’re not in a safe area. We must not remain out in the open for long.”
We rush to the door where Kostya raps several times in rhythmic succession. The door flies open and Kos
tya pushes me in, then steps in behind me and pulls it shut.
“This her?” the man says, his eyes running up and down my small frame. I shrink back a little as Kostya nods his head.
“Da. And that’s the child. You have to hurry. She has to be at the train station before it gets too dark. We can’t risk her being questioned.”
“Come here,” the man says gruffly. I step forward.
“What is the child’s birthday?” he asks.
“June 16, 1942.”
“Good,” the man nods. “And he was born in Vinnitsya, correct?” he asks. I nod.
“Alright. Go and sit down while I finish these up. Kostya, give her a bowl of borscht and a plate of bread. Would you like chai?” He looks up at me, and I’m taken aback by the kindness in his eyes. It doesn’t match the harsh sound of his voice.
“Yes,” I answer. “Thank you very much.”
For half an hour, I sit quietly in the corner, sipping my chai and wishing we could move on. Sasha will wake soon, and I would rather not have to entertain him during the most dangerous and difficult leg of this journey.
Finally, the man stands and hands me a stack of papers. “Put these with your own passport and papers,” he says. “Don’t lose them.”
I nod and lean forward to retrieve my bag off the floor. Sasha lets out a wail as he wakes, and the man looks around frantically. “Keep him quiet,” he says, his brow furrowed and fearful.
“I’ll try.” I shove Sasha’s papers into my bag and pull him up to my shoulder, patting his back gently. He pushes against my legs and kicks in frustration at having been woken so rudely. “May I please have a piece of bread for him?” I ask. The man hands me the bread, and I place it in Sasha’s flailing fist. He immediately goes quiet as he sucks on the snack.
The man sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “The man who will escort you to the train station will be here soon. You should know that this man is a Red Army soldier, though he won’t be dressed as one tonight. He’s not a simple partisan, like us. But he’s still one of the good guys. He daily risks his life to help people like you escape. Listen and respect him.”
