Dan Smith - The Child Thief

‘Hid food.’

I thought about the horse tracks on the road. ‘And they’ve gone ahead to wait for you,’ I said. ‘Two men on horseback. They’re expecting you.’

‘Yes. So they can ask me more questions. But I don’t think they want any answers. I think they just want me to die.’

‘How far away is your village from here? Two kilometres?’

She nodded.

‘And to the next one?’

She shrugged.

‘Four or five kilometres?’

‘About that,’ she said.

‘That gives us a while before they’re expecting you,’ I thought aloud.

Petro shifted. ‘And when she doesn’t arrive, Papa? Will they think she died on the road?’

‘Maybe. Or maybe they’ll come looking for her.’

I walked away and fumbled a cigarette from the packet, only three left, and lit it with a match. The phosphorus smell was tangy, but it lasted only a second or two before the tobacco smoke smothered it. I stood for a while, just looking at the trees, seeing the snow, letting my eyes drift out of focus so all I could see was white.

‘What is it?’ Petro spoke from just behind me.

I took a long drag on the cigarette, long enough for me to have to stifle a cough, and blew the smoke out, letting it mingle with the heat of my breath.

‘We should leave,’ Petro said. ‘Go after Dariya; get away from here in case those men come looking. We can take Aleksandra with us.’

‘Or we could leave her here.’

‘What?’

‘If they come looking for her, maybe we should make sure they find her.’

Petro opened his mouth to speak, but he had no words.

‘We could put her back on the road and let her walk.’

‘And if she tells them about us?’ Petro finally found his voice. ‘If they ask about the coat and boots? And when the old man doesn’t show up?’

I offered Petro the cigarette and he looked at it for a second before shaking his head.

‘We could take the clothes from her,’ I shrugged. ‘Let her walk barefoot—’

‘No.’

‘Or we could kill her.’

‘ What ?’

‘Just possibilities, Petro, that’s all.’

‘That’s not an option. I couldn’t… we couldn’t do that.’ He looked at me, probably persuading himself I would never do that – murder someone to cover my tracks – but at the same time he doubted his own thoughts. ‘It would be so wrong.’

‘Would it?’ I hadn’t given much thought to killing Aleksandra – I had spoken the words aloud as they came to mind – but now I was asking myself if I would do it. And it made me feel sick to realise I would. If I thought it would help our situation, I really would consider it.

‘Of course it would be wrong. How can you even think—’

‘Don’t worry; we’ll take her with us. We’ll just have to hope no one follows.’

Petro shifted where he stood, moving from one foot to the other, breaking the stillness. ‘I don’t know what it’s like,’ he said.

‘Hm?’

‘To be like you. To fight like you have. I can’t imagine what you must have done, how you must have felt.’

‘Where’s this coming from?’

‘I think you pretend it hasn’t happened.’

‘What?’

‘You harden yourself and pretend it hasn’t happened, and that’s how you live with it. And that’s what you expect from Viktor, isn’t it?’

‘We should go.’

‘Am I right?’

I stood where I was, cigarette in hand.

‘Am I right, Papa? Is that how you live with it? Is that what Viktor must do?’

‘Viktor must do whatever he can.’

‘And you? You do things and then make yourself believe they haven’t happened? Is that how you could leave Aleksandra behind?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it now.’

‘When?’

‘Come on, let’s get moving. We can’t waste any more time.’ I went back to Viktor, sensing Petro’s eyes on my back. Petro knew I’d been thinking about what I was going to do, and he knew that if I thought we had to leave Aleksandra behind, I would do it.

‘You all right?’ I asked Viktor.

He nodded.

‘I need you to say it.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘Good. One more thing to do and then we’re leaving. Come and help me with this.’ I went to the body of the old man and took his arms, starting to drag him deeper into the woods. ‘Help me, Viktor. I can’t do it on my own.’

But Viktor remained where he was, looking away.

‘Viktor,’ I called again. ‘Help me.’

Still he remained.

I felt my impatience rise. I was disappointed by my son’s reaction. I thought him stronger. I called him once more, louder this time, but again he didn’t move. Instead, Aleksandra turned towards me. She seemed to harden herself as she took a step forward, only to be stopped by Petro.

‘I’ll do it,’ he said, putting a hand on her arm, holding her back. ‘It’s all right.’

So Petro helped me drag the old man further into the trees, and together we piled snow over him.

Once the body was hidden, I took Petro back to the road, casting a glance at Viktor. I told Petro to take off his boots and socks.

‘Why?’

‘We need to make more tracks,’ I said, crouching to remove my own boots, looking across once more at Viktor.

‘He’ll be all right,’ Petro said. ‘He just needs a moment.’

‘He’s had a moment. We don’t have many more left.’

‘He’ll be fine.’

‘Right.’ I took off my boots, blocking out the pain when I put my naked feet in the snow. ‘When Aleksandra and…’

‘… Roman.’

‘Mm. When Aleksandra and Roman don’t arrive in Sushne, they’ll come to look for them, and we don’t want them to find a body. If they find tracks ending here, they’ll go into the trees, maybe find where we buried him.’

‘So we make more tracks,’ Petro said. ‘Further down the road.’

‘Exactly.’

Petro nodded and removed his boots, wincing when his bare feet touched the snow. ‘It hurts,’ he said.

‘Let’s do it quickly then.’

With our boots in our hands, we walked barefoot, trying to continue from the place where Aleksandra and Roman had been walking. At first the cold was painful, then it began to feel more like burning, as if we were walking over hot coals.

‘Some people can do this for a long time,’ I said, trying to keep my mind off the feeling in my feet.

‘How long?’ There was tension in Petro’s voice.

‘Half an hour, maybe.’

‘Half an hour? What about frostbite?’

I clenched my teeth. ‘We’ll stop soon. Walk faster.’

‘Will we get frostbite?’

‘No. If your toes go white, we’ll stop and rub them. As long as they’re pink you’re fine.’

‘That’s the rule?’

I shrugged and looked at Petro. ‘I don’t know.’

Petro had pulled his scarf away from his face and I could see the redness of his cheeks, the mud smeared beneath his dark eyes. His features were contorted with pain and determination. Like some kind of twisted clown. And, despite our situation, I felt myself smile.

‘What?’ Petro asked.

‘If someone could see us now, they’d think…’ I began to laugh.

‘What?’ Petro started to smile, his expression turning to one of confusion. ‘They’d think what?’

‘That we’re mad,’ I said, laughing out loud.

Petro began to laugh with me as we hurried along the road, barefoot, like two insane vagabonds, and when I finally signalled to Petro to stop, we rubbed warmth back into our feet and put on our socks and boots.

We left the road, heading back into the trees, covering our tracks as we went, then doubled back to where Viktor and Aleksandra were waiting.

‘You think it’ll be enough?’ Petro asked.