The Stones of Years Ch. 02

"You're both very lucky, you know, but I think you'll be fine in a few weeks. At least you will if we can get you can eat!"

"I'm sorry, but I haven't been able to keep anything down for a while – maybe a week."

"The soup will help, and there are some herbs we can use to calm your stomach. We'll find some tomorrow. I have seen some in the meadow."

"Well, thank you, doctor."

"I've done nothing, Lev. And call me Grigory."

"Alright."

"Now try to get some sleep. We'll get you to your room tomorrow morning."

The doctor wanted to ask more questions but the boy fell asleep again – he had been in and out all evening – and he pulled the blanket up before he walked back into the tiny kitchen.

"He'll be fine," he said to his daughters, and they both visibly relaxed. He smiled, laughed inwardly, walked over to his wife and hugged her. "Did you find out anything?"

"There will be a group of woodcutters going out later this week. You should have a message ready for Sasha then."

"Sure, fine."

"The boy – his name is Podgolskiv. What kind of name is that?"

"Lithuanian, I think."

"Ah. Well, we have someone sleeping in his bed tonight, so that's covered. And we will get him to his cabin in the morning, well, if you think he'll be ready."

"Is there anyone to take care of him?"

"No, but I was thinking of sending one of the girls…"

"Tina."

"What?"

"Send Tina, she's in…"

"I know, I know. But it won't be long until Sara is too, you know. Then there will be jealousies."

He shrugged. "That can't be helped."

"Such a pragmatist!"

"We must get them out of here, to the West somehow. At least one of the boys, anyway."

"Can we do such a thing?"

"I don't know. Sasha will have to get word to Moscow. Maybe the Americans – or the British – will take an interest."

"But…"

"And before the weather gets cold. Or they will have to wait a year."

"A year," she said. "That sounds like forever."

"What about you? When do you find out?"

"I did, tonight. I will teach cello for now, and the symphony will hold auditions in October."

"Auditions?"

"Yes, auditions! There are over seven hundred musicians here! Five thousand people in just this camp."

"God-in-heaven! So many?"

"Yes. We will play at Army bases, I am given to understand. Mainly."

"Now, isn't that just like Ivan? What a sense of humor!"

"I also hear that Comrade Kushnirenko is ill."

"Oh?"

"Someone heard it has to do with the lungs, by the way."

"Oh, wonderful!"

"Yes. There is a rumor they are going to make you work at the clinic."

"But they told you I would never practice medicine again!"

"I suspect once Kushnirenko found out your history he has convinced others to have a change of heart. Someone has, anyway. And just what of your Hippocratic oath, doctor?"

"If it is within my power to cure him, I will. You know that."

"I know, Grigory. I know. That is one of the things I love most about you."

"Don't tease me!"

"Alright, if you insist."

"Are the girls asleep?"

"Yes, I think so. Why?"

He looked at her and smiled. "Perhaps if you'd come to bed I'll show you."

"But, I haven't eaten, and I'm starved…"

"Curiously enough, woman, it just so happens that I have just the thing for you. Enough for a second helping, I'm sure."

"I don't see how you can think about sex at a time like this!"

"Because I'm not dead, and I refuse to surrender all that I am to these grotesque little monsters."

She regarded him for a moment, then held out her hand. "Come on then, you beast. I hope I won't be the only one eating tonight!"

__________________________

Lev woke up in the middle of the night.

'Something's not right,' he said to himself. The air was full of electric intent…

There was a full moon out and bit of silver light streamed in the window above his bed; he could just make out Misha's withered form under the blanket and he reached over and put the back of his hand on his brother's forehead, just like Dr Lenova had shown him to do, and he relaxed when he felt it.

Lev had been released from the clinic almost a month earlier, Misha just two weeks ago, and his brother was still – in Dr Lenova's words – a total wreck. His ribs were so prominent, his belly so shrunken, it looked as though one of the bones might poke through flesh at any moment.

Lev looked at his brother while he slept, feelings of sorrow cascaded over his eyes – washed away objective thought of all that had happened to him the past few months. He had never felt as alone as he had while laid up in the clinic; it seemed as if Misha would die at any moment and these last ties to his mother and father would be irretrievably cut. It wasn't so much that he loved his brother – they had, after all, had their share of tussles and scrapes – now it was this tenuous connection to his past that he mourned.

He resolved, if they were fortunate enough to leave the clinic with some good measure of their health, that he would try to take care of his brother better than he had in the past. He understood better than ever before the responsibility his parent's death had thrust upon them both, that it was the nature of families to take care of one another. As long as they were locked away in this hell, Lev vowed, he'd do his best to keep Misha away from Kushnirenko and his goons.

He heard footsteps on the mud floor outside their door and lay down, pretended to sleep, and he held his breath when the knob turned and the door creaked open a bit…

"Lev?" he heard Valentina's whisper and relaxed. He slipped out from under the blanket and went to the door.

"What are you doing here? It's so… it's so cold out!" Suddenly the cold hit him; after months of summer's warmth this first bitterly cold night hit him in the chest with a hammer blow.

"Father wants to talk to you," she said breathlessly, "and you must come quickly."

"What? Now?"

She pulled him through the door, pushed him down the mud hallway to the back door, spoke to him in hushed, urgent tones:

"I will stay here with Misha. You go, and you must be careful. I heard Yakov and the dogs earlier, walking by the lake."

"Great…"

"Go now! Hurry!"

He ran in the shadows, ducked silently around corners, fell to the ground and rolled under a bush when he heard a dog's bark not far away. He saw two guards walking from Kushnirenko's dacha, listened to their drunken banter and cruel laughter until they disappeared from view, then he stood and ran the last few yards to the Lenova's hut. It was dark inside and he wondered for a moment if he'd entered the wrong cabin, then he heard a door open and saw the doctor's dark form slipping across the little entry room.

"Come," the doctor whispered, and Lev followed the doctor to a bedroom.

The tiny room was lit by a single candle, yet even so the light seemed impossibly bright; Lev squinted and saw there were two men in the room already. Doctor Lenova motioned him to the bed. "Sit down, quickly, and take off your sweater."

"What?" Lev said, his voice full of suspicion.

"I am going to draw some blood from your arm, Lev, and these men are going to take it to be studied."

"But…" Lev looked at the men…

One looked like an old woodsman, his pockmarked face dirty and wrinkled by long years working outside in Siberia's brutal cold. The other was something else entirely. He was dressed in black, and his face was covered with black shoe polish; he spoke in a language Lev had never heard before and the only word he recognized was 'submarine'.

"What is this?" he said, now clearly alarmed.

"These people are here to help us, Lev. They need some of your blood – to study. Now sit down."

"Is he an American?" Lev asked, his eyes wide open now.

"Sit down, Lev."

He sat, studied the foreigners face intently while the doctor tied off his arm with rubber tubing. The foreigner studied him quietly too, looked him in the eye while Lenova swabbed his arm with alcohol, and while the needle slipped into a vein inside his left elbow.

The foreigner put the vials into a black metal case and patted Lev on the head, then the foreigner and the old woodsman disappeared out the back of the cabin.

"How do you feel?" the doctor asked.

"Okay. Fine. Was that an American?"

"Lev, it's better that you do not know. Better to forget any of this ever happened, alright?"

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Can you make it back? Do you need to rest first?"

"No, I'm fine, but Valentina said Yakov was walking about tonight…"

Her father seemed to consider that for a moment. "If you see him, hell, if anything seems funny, you just keep her there until morning. Understand?"

"Yessir!"

"Alright, off with you! And stay in the shadows!"

Mrs Lenova came in as Lev reached for the door and she looked at him, touched his cheek with her hand. "Bless you, Lev," she said.

"Be careful," the doctor said to his back, and he slipped out into the night.

He made it back quickly, darted into his room and found Misha still asleep and Valentina sitting on the floor at the end of the bed. She jumped, had apparently been dozing, and seemed surprised Lev was back so soon.

He helped her stand and he tried to see her face in the intense darkness. Instead he felt her body draw close to his, felt her warm breath on his lips, then her lips on his. Her mouth lingered on his a long time; her mouth opened and her tongue sought his. The sensation shocked him; he instantly felt weak in the knees and breathless, then she pushed back from him and slipped out the door.

The room was suddenly spinning violently and he sat down, put a hand out to steady himself.

"I thought I saw someone… a girl," he heard Misha saying. "I'm sure of it…"

"How are you feeling, Misha?"

"But, there was a … Lev! You're freezing! Have you been outside?"

"Yes, I had to take a crap."

"Oh."

"Can I get you anything?"

"No… No. I'm fine. Did you see a girl in here?"

"Misha, let's try to get some sleep. I have an audition tomorrow, remember?"

"Oh, right! Mr Big Shot musician!"Misha said groggily, though angrily. "The prodigy! I keep forgetting!"

Lev crawled under the blanket, regretted saying anything to stir up Misha's insecurities. "I hear Mr Stelnikov may ask you to audition for the ensemble? Is that true?"

"I heard that too, but I'm not strong enough yet."

"We will walk again tomorrow. We will get you strong, Misha. You'll see. You'll be as good as me again before you know it."

"I've never been as good as you, Lev, and you know that."

"Nonsense! Now, let me get some sleep, and can I have some more blanket, you bed-hog!" Misha laughed and Lev might have felt better covering his misstep but for the lingering waves of lust and confusion that moved from his mouth to his stomach.

He lived within those moments for the rest of the night, felt her breath, her lips, her tongue – each new sensation playing out over and over again until his eyes burned with exhaustion. He watched as the eastern horizon lightened, the fire in his stomach burning out of control, and he simply could not get Valentina Lenova out of his mind.