Thankfully, Ian's injuries were superficial. He needed twelve stitches to his scalp, and his ribs were terribly bruised, but that was all. Kat phoned home to let them know why she and Genya would be late, and then she called Ian's house.
His mother answered the phone. Once Kat explained the situation, she could hear the clatter of a phone being dropped, and then she could hear the slam of a door.
Kat and Genya and Lisa were still waiting anxiously for Ian's stitching to be finished when his mother burst through the doors of Emergency fifteen minutes later. Mrs. Smith's expensively tailored jacket was buttoned awry and streaks of mascara stained her face. Her facade of polished perfection was gone. As her eyes darted urgently from Genya to Lisa and Kat, she asked, "Where is he?"
Kat pointed to the door of the room where Ian was being treated. Mrs. Smith didn't even knock. She pushed the door and rushed in.
As they waited, Genya looked at the two younger girls. "Did you recognize any of the guys who attacked Ian?"
Kat looked at Lisa, then back at her sister. "One of them was vaguely familiar. I think he's on some high school football team," she said evasively.
"By the looks of them, all of them were," said Lisa. "But they weren't from Cawthra, and they weren't from St. Paul's."
Kat nodded in agreement.
About a minute after that, Ian's father showed up. Kat noted that he had a look of angry determination on his face. Before doing anything else, Mr. Smith approached the reception desk and identified himself. The nurse apprised him of his son's condition and his shoulders immediately relaxed in relief. Instead of bursting into the treatment room as his wife had done, he sat down with the girls and waited.
"Tell me what happened," he said to them.
This was the first time Kat had seen Mr. Smith up close. She was struck by the physical similarity between him and Ian. Had Mr. Smith dyed his hair platinum, he would have looked identical to the Ian who showed up at the courtroom yesterday. They were both tall and lean with blond, almost feminine good looks. Mr. Smith had Ian's long tapered fingers, except these had only one adornment: a plain gold wedding band.
Kat told Mr. Smith about the scene they had happened upon. She didn't mention that they had found Ian's knife on the ground, nor did Lisa. They also didn't tell him that any of the kids looked familiar to them.
As they talked, the door to the treatment room opened and two figures emerged: Mrs. Smith, with her arm looped protectively around Ian's waist. In any other context, the image would have been absurd. Ian was more than a head taller than his mother, yet it was she who was supporting him. He had all of the energy of a rag doll and he leaned heavily on his mother, who no longer looked fragile or frantic.
One side of Ian's head had been shaven and the twelve black stitches were clearly visible. There were still traces of blood on his face and his iridescent shirt was splattered red. His leather pants were torn at the knees and his hands were scraped.
Ian's father jumped up from the chair and strode over to his son. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," said Ian, not looking fine at all. "I'm just bruised."
"We've got to press charges," said his father. "Did you recognize any of the kids who did this to you?"
Ian looked at his father with angry frustration. Did his father really think that pressing charges would make this better?
"They must have been from out of town," lied Ian. "None of them looked remotely familiar."
Genya opened her mouth to say something, but Kat gave her sister a meaningful look. Genya remained silent.
"Let's get home so I can get cleaned up. I don't want to be late for the concert."
Ian's mother looked up at him in amazement. "You can't perform in your condition."
"Just watch me," said Ian.
He flashed a weak smile at Lisa, Kat and Genya then said, "Thanks guys. See you at the school, okay?"
Then he walked with slow determination out of the hospital, still supported by his mother.
CHAPTER 38
DANYLO WAS PACING with agitation by the time Kat and Genya came home from the hospital. "How is Ian?" he asked urgently as soon as Kat stepped through the door.
"Fine," replied Kat. "No broken bones, just stitches and bruises."
Danylo sighed with relief. "It is too bad about his concert, though," said Danylo. "Has he cancelled?"
"Believe it or not, he said he was still going to play tonight."
A smile of admiration formed on Danylo's lips. "Then we'll have to hurry up and have supper so we can get over to the school," he said.
Orysia and Danylo both decided to go to the concert with Kat. Genya, as usual, went over to a friend's house. When they got to Cawthra, it was still early so there were only a few cars in the parking lot. Kat recognized Ian's father's Mercedes and sighed with relief. She was afraid that he might have changed his mind and not come. She also saw Lisa getting out of her parents' SUV. Lisa was dressed in her usual black, but instead of a short leather skirt and ripped stockings, she was wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket. She wore a silver spiked leather dog collar around her neck and her nails were painted black. Surprisingly, she wasn't wearing her usual ghastly makeup. Kat figured it was a concession to her parents being with her. Kat called out to Lisa to get her attention, and Lisa and her parents walked over to the Baliuk car.
Lisa's father reached out his hand and clasped Danylo's firmly. "How was the testimony today?" he asked.
"Good," replied Danylo.
"It was better than that," said Orysia. "Mr. Vincent has presented my father's case very thoroughly."
"I am glad to her it," said Dr. Nguyen, then he turned to Danylo. "Lisa tells me that you will be on the witness stand tomorrow."
"Yes," replied Danylo.
"I shall do my best to attend," said Dr. Nguyen. "Every bit of moral support helps."
Danylo bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you," he said.
And then he and the Nguyens and Orysia ambled towards the school together, leaving Kat and Lisa by the car.
"Did you remember Ian's knapsack?" asked Lisa.
"I did," said Kat. Then she opened the trunk of the car and grabbed out the knapsack containing the mutilated parachute. "I don't think he'll want it now, though." Not that she wanted it in the car. It gave her the creeps.
"I've got an idea," said Lisa. "Bring it with you."
When they got into the auditorium, Lisa made a beeline over to the principal. Kat stood within hearing range, but kept her distance so as not to look like she was butting in.
"... and if he goes on first, he can get home and rest," Lisa was explaining.
Dr. Bradley nodded in sympathy. "Yes," she said. "It will be a bit disruptive for the others involved, but this is an unusual circumstance. I'm sure no one will complain about these last minute changes."
Lisa smiled grimly, then thanked Dr. Bradley, who quickly walked off, no doubt to inform the other students. "Come on," she said to Kat, motioning for her to follow.
Kat looked over her shoulder and noticed that the families were sitting together: Danylo, Orysia, Lisa's parents and Ian's parents. Kat almost laughed out loud. What an unlikely group. What would they ever talk about?
She followed Lisa onto the stage and then watched as Lisa unzipped the knapsack and unfurled the ripped parachute. "Here, take the end," Lisa directed.
Kat took the one end, and just as they had practised many times, she draped it across the curtains and fastened it. Once it was hung, they both stepped back. It looked terrible. Ribbons of hacked khaki coloured material dangled limply from the deep crimson backdrop. It was worse than no set at all. Kat walked back to pull down her end, but Lisa held her arm. "Just a minute," she said. "Let me think."
Kat shrugged her shoulders. She was too emotionally drained to think anything more about it, but if Lisa had a better idea, that was fine by her.
"Let's turn it upside down," said Lisa.
Kat was about to disagree, but
then she understood what Lisa was doing. The parachute had been cut in strips, and by hanging how it was now with the narrow end at the top, it looked forlorn and straggled. Lisa pulled a ladder to one end of the stage and Kat dragged one over to the other end. They each held a bottom corner up high to see what would happen. Instantly, instead of looking forlorn and bedraggled, the strips looked intentional. The backdrop was suddenly transformed with fluttering jagged stripes. The hacked khaki strips of parachute stood out brave and proud.
Kat grinned at Lisa from her perch on the ladder and gave her the thumbs up sign.
There were seats in the orchestra pit for both Kat and Lisa to sit in while Ian played the piano. From that vantage point,
they had a skewed, though close view of the stage. When the lights darkened after his piece, it would take moments for them to jump up and pull down the parachute.
Kat watched as parents and students streamed into the auditorium and found places to sit. She noticed Michael and his family come in, so she waved frantically to get his attention. Before sitting down in his own seat, he walked down the aisle and kneeled down in front of the pit.
"I'm coming to the hearing tomorrow," he said. "Dad agreed to let me miss school."
Kat was touched. "Thank you," she said. "I know my grandfather will appreciate it.
"Talk to you later," said Michael, scampering to his seat before the lights dimmed.
As she watched Michael walk back to his own seat, Kat noticed three familiar burly figures slouch in and sit in the back row. Kat nudged Lisa. "I noticed," said Lisa. It was the three jocks who had beaten Ian.
"I wonder what they're doing here?" whispered Kat.
"Getting a little culture, I guess," replied Lisa with sarcasm.
Beth and Callie also came in together, sitting in front of the three burly teens. Kat noticed that they turned and giggled flirtatiously. It seemed ages ago that these two had been friends of hers. Kat hadn't realized until this moment how distant she felt towards them.
The lights dimmed. Dr. Bradley stepped up onto the stage and announced the changes in the program.
Lisa switched on the spotlights she had arranged for Ian's entrance. The whole stage was plunged into darkness except for the piano in the pit. The ribbons of torn parachute cast an eerie shadow behind the pit and did seem fitting. The auditorium was silent with expectation. Suddenly, a figure burst through the curtains. A collective gasp rose throughout the auditorium. Ian had completely shaven his head, and the black stitches looked like a slash across his scalp. Instead of wearing the long black coat as he had planned, Ian had on his torn and bloodstained shirt and pants from the beating. The most astonishing thing about Ian's appearance was his expression. Ian was the gentlest person Kat knew, but right now his face flashed an angry scowl that was frightening in its intensity. Ian surveyed the audience and his eyes seemed to lock on the three sitting in the back row. Kat followed his gaze and noted with satisfaction that they seemed to squirm.
Ian strode over to the piano and sat down on the bench. As his fingers made contact with the ivory keys, all the anger drained out of his face and was replaced with a look of total concentration.
As the familiar ballade began to unfold, Kat tried to fill her mind with nothing but the music. She searched the faces in the audience and found her grandfather. As the music began, she saw her grandfather's eyes meet her own, and then he looked above her, to Ian. Perhaps he could lose himself in the music and forget about his burden just for a moment?
Danylo looked down at Kataryna's friend on the stage and sighed deeply as he felt the music wash over him. How was it that such beautiful music could come from such an unlikely source? When Kat had phoned Danylo to tell him of Ian's accident, he was horrified, but not really surprised. People tended to hate what they didn't understand. What did surprise him was the strength of this thin pale boy. Not only in the fact that he was able to come out in public like this after such a brutal beating, but that he had the strength and the gift to produce this intricate music.
The ballade began with a pounding intensity that brought to Danylo's mind a vision of violence. He wondered if it had the same effect on Ian? Was he beating the piano just as he had been beaten by those boys? The experience was so sharp that Danylo found himself gripping onto the armrests of his seat. A sob caught in Danylo's throat as he noticed a slight reflection of wetness on Ian's cheek. The boy was weeping.
It brought back the memory of that other pale thin boy, decades earlier. Seeing him again in the courtroom made it seem as if it were just yesterday.
The Nazis had built a huge barbed wire enclosure at the outskirts of Orelets. As Red Army soldiers were captured or surrendered, they were thrown into the open air prison to die of exposure, starvation or thirst. Villagers were tormented by the sight of so many starving prisoners of war — some of whom were neighbours or relatives. One boy could have been no more than 14. His pale thin face showed the first wisps of a beard and his eyes were often filled with tears. It cut Danylo to the core to see this young boy and the others waiting to die.
The Nazi guards had a game. They would pretend not to see when a village woman tossed food over the barbed wire, but then as the starving POWs fought each other for a morsel, the soldiers would shoot into the huddled mass of humanity, killing whomever succeeded in getting a bite. And because the POWs were considered not quite human by their Aryan taskmasters, this activity was considered no more immoral than shooting fish in a barrel. It was unbearable for Danylo to watch this happen without being able to do anything about it. He sent word to his sister in the forest, and they devised a plan.
The next time the guards checked the enclosure for corpses and only one man guarded the open gate, Kataryna made her appearance. Dressed in an open-necked blouse and a tightly cinched skirt, she walked past the entrance, carrying a basket of eggs. Just as the lone guard at the entrance noticed her pass, she caught his eye and smiled. But then her foot caught on a loose stone and she stumbled, eggs scattering around her. As the guard ran to help her back to her feet, some of the POWs were able to escape.
Once they had passed the gate and were heading towards the woods, Danylo walked over to his sister and grasped her elbow. They walked away together as the guard went back to the gate and locked it, never realizing what had just happened.
When they got back to their own cottage, Danylo almost vomited with relief. Had they been caught, both he and Kataryna would have been executed, but that's not what had worried him. It was the "collective responsibility" that was most on his mind. They rounded up villagers for each instance of defiance. He remembered the first time, when a Nazi officer had been killed. That resulted in one dozen villagers being chosen at random, marched into the centre of town, and executed in full view of their neighbours. The bodies were left swinging from ropes in the village square until they rotted and fell down.
How would the Nazis retaliate if they discovered POWs had been set free? But if he and Kataryna hadn't taken the risk, that 14-year-old's eyes would have haunted him forever.
Danylo was brought out of his memory when the music changed. It mellowed and became quiet, almost gentle. Danylo's knuckles relaxed and he was lulled momentarily into thinking the music would be simply pleasurable from now on. It almost sounded like a traditional ballad for a minute or so.
Then it built again. Danylo watched Ian's face and noticed that the boy was no longer weeping. There was a distanced coldness to the face. The hands moved across the keyboard more slowly now, and Danylo waited for the ballade to end. Unexpectedly, the momentum changed. Instead of winding down, it began to build back up with a slow but increasing fierceness. Tears sprung to Danylo's eyes as he remembered what happened just weeks after the POW camps had been established — black uniformed SS swooping down into their village.
Their first target was the Jews, but they came so swiftly that the villagers didn't grasp what was happening. A notice had been put up, requesting that the Jews pack one piece of luggage ea
ch and dress in their travel clothing. They were to congregate in the village square at 9 am sharp. The notice stated that they were to be evacuated beyond the war zone for their safety. Some of the Jews were fearful. Rumours of mass killings had drifted into even this remote village, but they were discounted. Germans were civilized, after all. Most packed their bags and congregated as they had been requested to do.
But hours after the boxcars of Jews had left, a strange rumbling could be heard in the distance. It wasn't thunder. Days later, there were fearful whisperings throughout the village. The Jews had been taken only miles away and forced to dig their own graves. And then they were shot.
The terror didn't stop there. Many Jews were found hidden with the other villagers. For each Jew found, a Ukrainian family was shot.
Then the Nazis began the Oblava— rounding up Ukrainian young people from schools, churches, the streets, and loading them into cattle cars for slave labour in Nazi Germany.
Sometimes the auxiliary police would get advance warning of these raids, and when that happened, Danylo could sometimes warn his neighbours to hide their young. But more often than not, the raids were a complete surprise.
Danylo got angrier and angrier as his memories flooded in. The music fit his mood perfectly.
The distanced coldness on Ian's face was replaced by a look of raw anger. He pounded the keys like a punch to the face. Danylo gripped the armrests again, holding on for dear life. Suddenly, the music changed again. The anger diminished and the complexity increased. Ian's shoulders relaxed and he leaned back a bit from the keyboard, playing the notes with a sheer cold showiness. Danylo noticed that the anger was gone from Ian's face. In fact, all emotion was gone.
The music built up again with the same power and intensity, and then, suddenly, it segued into utter abject sorrow. Ian's mask of indifference melted in an instant and was replaced with a look of despair. Watching him, Danylo was also filled with despair.
Hope's War Page 18
