"Must we have all eleven?" he asked. "Why not just the best five or six?"
Orysia said nothing. She walked away.
There was really no one to talk to about all of this. Kat had drifted away from her friends at St. Paul's, and she didn't feel close enough to either Beth or Callie to confide in them. She wondered how much Michael knew? He treated her no differently at school, and so she assumed that his father had said nothing to him about the upcoming hearing. She knew that Ian suspected something was wrong, but he could never guess the magnitude of what she was going through. Who could?
Just then, she noticed that someone else had entered the bus shelter. She looked up and recognized Dylan, her old acquaintance from day camp. He looked like an overgrown version of the kid he used to be: dark hair buzzed Marine short, a handsome face that still had a bit of childhood pudginess, and friendly chocolate brown eyes. In day camp he'd been a bit on the short and chubby side, but now he was tall and big with muscle, not fat. He wore a navy wool bomber jacket with his school team football logo on it.
He noticed her staring at him so he turned around. "Kat," he said with surprise. "How are you?"
She didn't want to alarm him by saying how she really was, so she just told him she was fine.
"Are you going to Cawthra now?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "I switched over from St. Paul's at the beginning of the year."
"There's a lot of freaks at that school," said Dylan. "Be careful."
Kat was surprised at this statement. As far as she was concerned, Cawthra was simply filled with very creative students. If they were freaks, then so was she.
Just then, a black SUV pulled up and the window rolled down. "Hey, there," a familiar voice called.
Kat looked up. It was Ian, his fluorescent yellow hair glinting from the reflection of the snow. "Need a ride?" Ian looked directly at her, and did not even acknowledge that Dylan was standing beside her.
The back door of the SUV opened, and there was Lisa in the back, beckoning her.
With a grin, Kat ran over to the vehicle and hopped in. She waved good-bye to Dylan. "It was nice seeing you again," she called out as she closed the door.
"You should stay away from that creep," said Ian, looking out the window and pointing towards Dylan.
"He's not a creep," said Kat. What was his problem with Dylan, she wondered?
The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken when Lisa said, "Kat, I'd like you to meet my father, Dr. Hung Nguyen."
The driver of the vehicle turned to face Kat in the back seat. Dr. Nguyen extended his hand.
Kat drew one of her freezing hands out of the depths of her pocket and grasped Dr. Nguyen's. She was surprised at its warmth and strength.
"You are Lisa's friend who knows about mushrooms, right?" asked Dr. Nguyen.
Kat smiled. It had never been her claim to fame before. "Yes," she replied. "But probably not as much as you."
Dr. Nguyen grinned, then turned back in his seat to face the steering wheel. "Are you coming to our house, or would you like me to drive you home?" he asked, looking at her through the rearview mirror.
Kat hesitated. Before she could answer, Lisa piped in. "If you're not doing anything, come on over. Ian's coming."
"Sure," said Kat. "That would be fun." She was grateful for the distraction.
Kat looked out the window in silence as Lisa's father drove away from the bus stop. She noticed a few kids walking home, grins on their faces, glad that the holidays had started. A woman crossed in front of the SUV at a busy intersection, her arms loaded down with gift packages. The sight made Kat gulp back sadness. This wasn't exactly going to be a happy holiday for her family.
Lisa's father drove up Cawthra and over the highway and into one of the many new housing developments that had blossomed recently. He turned onto a street with deeply creviced tire tracks of mud and frozen dirt. Lisa's house was a large grey stone mock Tudor on a postage-stamp sized lot. Dr. Nguyen parked in a gravel-covered driveway in front of a two door garage.
When Kat followed the others into the house, she was enveloped in a wonderfully aromatic cooking smell that she couldn't quite identify. It was vaguely familiar. Images of her grandmother fluttered into her mind.
"Come on," said Lisa, unzipping her long boots. "Follow me."
Kat poked her head into the living room and dining room as she passed. Everything was bright, white, and modern. The hallway opened up into a galley style kitchen in the centre of the house. There was an island with a cook top, and on one of the burners was a gigantic stainless steel stock-pot. The lovely aroma was emanating from that.
"My grandmother's making soup," said Lisa, lifting the lid and peering inside. "Can you tell that lemongrass is her favourite seasoning?"
Lisa opened the refrigerator and rooted around until she found three cans of cola. Tossing one to Kat and one to Ian, she gestured for them to follow her into the basement. A corner of the room was finished like a standard rec room with a television, stereo, sofa and chairs, but the rest of it was a huge raised dance floor, with a bar at one end and a small elevated stage and a single screen karaoke system at the other. A glittering mirror-ball was hanging from the ceiling.
"This is bizarre," said Kat. "Your parents must have a lot of parties."
"Not really," said Lisa. "But they sometimes have a few friends over to dance. They love karaoke. My mother won the karaoke system in a contest, so my dad surprised her by building this little stage. Then he put in the lighting system."
Lisa walked over to the stage area and flicked one switch. The lights dimmed; she flicked another and the mirrorball began to rotate slowly. Kat noticed that coloured light was reflecting off the mirrorball and bouncing around the room. Lisa flicked another switch, and her image appeared on the screen behind her.
Ian grinned broadly. "Can I put on a tune?" he asked.
"Take your pick," said Lisa, pointing to a stack of CDs.
Ian flipped through. Most were bubble gum tunes from the 1960s and disco from the 1970s. He pulled out a CD of Saturday Night Fever."This should be good," he said. "What do you think?"
"Sure," Lisa replied with a mischievous smile. "But you've got to perform it."
Lisa popped the disc into the unit and handed Ian the microphone. The screen filled with his image. Along the bottom, the lyrics for "Staying Alive" by the Bee Gees appeared, one line at a time. A bouncing ball keeping time. "Stand right here," she said, pulling him to the centre of the stage.
Kat sat cross-legged in the middle of the dance floor and settled in for the performance. Lisa hopped off the stage and sat beside her on the floor. They clapped to the rhythm of the bouncing ball.
"Well you can tell by the way I use my walk, I'm a woman's man — no time to talk!" Ian wailed.
Kat watched the whole absurd scenario of Ian strutting around like John Travolta. He was really quite good. She had been feeling so depressed all day, but watching Ian do the high camp karaoke rendition had her grinning ear to ear.
CHAPTER 18
SVIAT VECHIR WAS usually one of Kat's favourite days in the whole year. While her friends and their families were putting away the last of the tinsel and starting on their New Year's resolutions, for the Baliuks and others in their community, the festivities were just getting under way. Ukrainian Christmas Eve was celebrated on January 6th, and the meticulous preparation of the traditional twelve meatless dishes started weeks in advance. This year, Sviat Vechir fell on a Sunday. Christmas day was on a Monday. It was the first day of school for everyone else, but Genya and Kat would stay home to go to Christmas service with their family. After that, they would have a midday meal of goose and cabbage rolls.
It was a subdued celebration this year for more reason than one. It was bad enough with the deportation hearing just days away. Kat couldn't get that out of her head. But it was also the first year that Kat's grandmother wouldn't be there with them. The year before, Baba had been so ill that the family brought a m
akeshift Sviat Vechir dinner right into her hospice room and had a final family celebration together. At the time, Kat couldn't have imagined a more macabre evening, but this year it was shaping up to be worse.
Not only was Baba gone, but Kat's father wouldn't be there, either. He had been given time off at American Thanksgiving and also between Christmas and New Year's, but Ukrainian Christmas was just another work day to his boss, so Walt flew back to Portland on New Year's Day. Orysia swallowed back her sorrow as she kissed him one last time at the airport. "Get the girls to invite a friend each," Walt had suggested, giving his wife a fierce hug. "The celebration won't seem so desolate then."
Genya opted not to ask anyone. Orysia had noticed that Genya had not brought a single friend home with her since the issue with Danylo had arisen. More often than not, Genya would be out. She had even taken to staying at a friend's house overnight several times a week.
Kat asked Lisa, who was thrilled with the invitation. "Are you going to ask Ian too?" she had inquired.
"Do you think he'd want to come?" asked Kat. She liked Ian and considered him a friend, but she knew that he was Lisa's boyfriend and she didn't want to mess with that.
"I don't know," shrugged Lisa. "Would you like me invite him for you?"
"No," said Kat. "I'll call."
With Danylo's help, Kat and Genya pushed the kitchen table into the living room, moved back all the living room furniture against the wall, and then put in the two extra table leaves, making the kitchen table long enough for even a dozen people. Kat took a freshly ironed table cloth and spread it over the long table top, then set out seven embroidered place mats. Once the newly polished silverware and special china were set out, Kat smiled with satisfaction. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
Lisa and Ian arrived together around five o'clock. As Kat opened the door to let them in, she noticed the silhouette of a figure in the darkness.
"Is there someone out there with you?" asked Kat, peering out into the darkness, trying to get a good look at the person.
"It's a protester," said Ian, as he stepped through the doorway.
"A what?" she asked alarmed.
"She's got a protest sign she's waving around," said Lisa. "It says ‘Nazi lives here.' What's that all about?"
Kat's face paled. Of all the times to choose to picket, why did she choose to come on Christmas Eve? "It's hard to explain," said Kat, closing the door quickly.
Kat hadn't seen Ian since before Christmas break, and the first thing she noticed was that he seemed somehow larger than life. He must have grown an inch, or perhaps filled out a bit. His presence seemed to envelop the room. His hair was freshly dyed a stark black, making him look formidable rather than whimsical. Kat took his coat from him — the satin lined long black coat that he planned on wearing for the concert. As she hung it up in the closet, she couldn't help but catch the distinctive scent of Ian and she filled her lungs with it. She hung Lisa's black leather trench coat up beside it in the closet, feeling a bit jealous that the two coats had arrived together.
Orysia suppressed a gasp when she walked into the living room to greet her guests. Ian had always attracted attention with his flamboyant appearance, but today he looked vaguely threatening to her. Orysia was ashamed of her thoughts. She knew that Ian was a gentle soul. And he had even dressed up for the occasion. He was wearing a white ruffled shirt buttoned high on the collar, and a heavy iron crucifix dangling from a long chain around his neck.
Lisa had also dressed carefully for the evening. No hobnailed boots or ripped net stockings: she wore a simple black jersey dress with a high neck and long sleeves with a hem line that brushed the floor. She was almost nun-like in her simplicity.
They stood awkwardly side by side as Orysia approached them. " Veselykh Sviat" she said cheerfully. "That literally means ‘happy holy' — but it's how you say happy Ukrainian Christmas Eve."
"Merry Christmas to you too," said Ian and Lisa together.
Just then, the door of Genya's bedroom creaked open and Danylo stepped out. He too had dressed up. He wore the dark grey suit that he had bought for his wife's funeral over a Ukrainian embroidered shirt. In his lapel was a reindeer pin that Kat had bought him the Christmas before.
A smile broke out on his face when he saw that two of Kat's new friends had decided to join them in their celebration. He gave each a bear hug then led them to the sofa that was pushed up against the wall to make room for the table.
Then he walked into the kitchen and gestured to the three cooking females to come out to the living room. "Let us gather around the table for the kutya."
Danylo carried a crystal bowl filled with kutya — a mixture of poppy seeds, honey, wheat and walnuts — and set it at the head of the table. Orysia placed a stack of small dessert bowls beside it. When they all found a spot around the table, there was still one empty. Danylo placed one spoonful of the mixture in each of the bowls, and Orysia set one in front of each person, and also one in front of the empty spot.
Lisa and Ian looked towards Kat to see what they should do. Everyone remained standing, and then Danylo took a small bit of the kutya on his spoon and held it in front of him. Everyone else did the same. "May God protect us this coming year, and may it be full of health and happiness for all," said Danylo. Then he ate his spoonful of kutya.Everyone else did the same.
"Now the fast is broken and we can eat," said Danylo to Ian and Lisa.
Orysia and her daughters went back into the kitchen to continue preparing the twelve course meatless feast, and Danylo got a container of grape juice from the fridge and took it into the living room with him. Filling three wine glasses from the table, he handed one each to Lisa and Ian, and kept one for himself. "A toast to friendship," he said.
They clinked their glasses and sipped.
"The candle hasn't been lit," said Danylo more to himself than to his guests. He opened the front curtains slightly and set down a single candle holder. "This light is to help travelers find their way home," he explained.
As he lit it with a match, he looked out the window and noticed a figure in the darkness. He squinted, trying to make sense of what he saw, but then he saw the outline of the placard and understood what it was.
"You will see that there are only six of us here, yet there are seven place settings on the table," Danylo said to Lisa and Ian who were sitting quietly side by side. "That place setting is for our departed loved ones. But it is also for the wandering stranger."
With that, Danylo set down his wine glass of grape juice and opened up the front door. He walked down the front steps of the house and out towards the sidewalk to where the lone protester stood. It was an elderly woman. She stared back at him with surprise and disdain.
"Madam," said Danylo. "I would like to invite you into our house for dinner."
The woman lowered her placard and stared at him with incredulity. "You expect me to accept your offer? You, a war criminal? And you, who just let two punk neo-Nazis into your house?"
Danylo sighed deeply. Each of her words cut him to the quick. "I am offering you my hospitality on a cold night," he said gently.
The woman spat on the ground in front of him and walked away.
CHAPTER 19
WHEN KAT CAME downstairs on Ukrainian Christmas morning, the first thing she did was to peek through the front curtains. The protester was gone, thank goodness.
Her mother, still in her housecoat, was already up and busy preparing the goose. It would roast while they were at church for Sluzhba Bozha.Kat could never understand why they didn't just have leftover meatless cabbage rolls, perogies, borscht and nalysniky from the evening before for their midday meal. There were tons of leftovers. But her mother was a stickler for tradition, so in spite of all the leftovers, fresh meat-filled cabbage rolls and roast goose was served on Rizdvo— Christmas day.
Kat poured herself a glass of water, not wanting to have food before Divine Liturgy, and then she helped her mother. Danylo and Genya were still getti
ng ready by the time the goose and cabbage rolls were in the oven.
While her mother got dressed for church, Kat opened the front door and retrieved both the Globe & Mail and the Toronto Star from the mailbox. She didn't even glance at the headlines as she carried the papers into the kitchen and deposited them on the table. But then a word on the front page of the Star caught her attention. The word was "Nazi". Kat unfolded the front page and her heart stopped. The headline was: Local man accused of Nazi crimes.
Below the headline was a large colour photo of her grandfather at the front step of their house. The top of Kat's own head was clearly visible behind him. Kat felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She quickly sat down on a kitchen chair and gulped for air. This can't be happening, but then again, why not? The hearing was at the end of the week. She tried to scan the article, but the words swam before her eyes. How and when had this photo been taken? Her grandfather was wearing his suit and Ukrainian blouse, and the reindeer pin was clearly visible on his lapel. It looked like it had been taken last night. How did they get such a close shot without them knowing, Kat wondered? Perhaps someone was watching them now? The thought made her shudder.
She threw the paper down on the table and flipped through the Globe.On A6 she stopped. A small news item caught her eye: Nazi war criminal hearing set for January 11th.
Kat willed herself to be calm and then read every word in the article. The bile rose in her throat. As far as the press saw it, her grandfather wasn't "accused"; he was guilty.
While she was still pondering the article, her mother walked out of her bedroom, dressed for church and looking happier than Kat had seen her for awhile. But when Orysia saw the expression on her daughter's face, her smile crumpled into concern. "What has happened?" she asked.
"Dido made front page of the Star; page 6 in the Globe."
She held out the papers, but Orysia shook her head.
"I don't want to see it," said Orysia. "I can tell by your face that I don't want to see it."
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