Рута Шепетис - Ashes in the Snow [aka Between Shades of Gray]

“In the Lithuanian army.” The boy paused. “He’s been gone for a while.”

His mother looked like an officer’s wife, fancy and unaccustomed to dirt. Jonas continued to chatter, before I could tell him to stop.

“Our father works at the university. I’m Jonas. This is my sister, Lina.”

The boy nodded at me. “I’m Andrius Arvydas.” I nodded in return and looked away.

“Do you think they’d let us get out, even for a few minutes?” asked Jonas. “That way, if Papa is here at the station, he’ll see us. He can’t find us now.”

“The NKVD won’t let us do much of anything,” said Andrius. “I saw them beat someone who tried to run.”

“They called us pigs,” said my brother.

“Don’t listen to them, Jonas. They’re the pigs. They’re stupid pigs,” I said.

“Shh. I wouldn’t say that,” said Andrius.

“What are you, the police?” I asked.

Andrius raised his eyebrows. “No, I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“Don’t get us in trouble, Lina,” said Jonas.

I looked over toward Mother.

“I gave them everything I had. I lied and told them he was feeble-minded. I had no choice,” whispered Andrius’s mother. “They would have split us up. Now I have nothing, not even a crumb.”

“I know,” said Mother, reaching out to the woman. “They did the same with us, and my boy is only ten years old.”

Ona’s baby wailed. Mrs. Rimas made her way over to Mother.

“She’s trying to feed the child, but something’s wrong,” said Mrs. Rimas. “The baby’s mouth won’t latch properly.”

Hours passed like long days. People cried of heat and hunger. The bald man griped about his pain while others tried to organize the space and luggage. I had to surrender my dirt canvas on the floor and instead used my fingernail to carve drawings on the wall.

Andrius jumped down from the car to go to the bathroom but was punched and thrown back in by the NKVD. We all cringed with each gunshot or scream. No one dared leave the car again.

Someone discovered a hole, the size of a plate, in the corner where the stubborn woman sat with her daughters. They had been hiding the hole and the fresh air that came from it. People descended upon her, insisting she move. After she had been dragged off the spot, we all took turns using the hole to go to the bathroom. Some just couldn’t bring themselves to do it. The sounds and smells made my head spin. A young boy hung his head from the car and vomited.

Mrs. Rimas organized the children and began to tell stories. The young kids scrambled toward the librarian. Even the two daughters left their grouchy mother and sat mesmerized by the fantastic tales. The girl with the dolly leaned against Mrs. Rimas and sucked her thumb.

We sat in a circle on the library floor. One of the younger boys lay on his back, sucking his thumb. The librarian turned through the picture book, reading with an animated voice. I listened and drew the characters in my little notebook. I drew the dragon and my heart began to beat faster. He was alive. I felt a wave of heat from his fiery breath coming at me, blowing my hair back. Then I drew the princess running, her beautiful golden hair tumbling down the mountainside…

“Lina, are you ready to go?”

I looked up. The librarian hovered over me. All of the children were gone.

“Lina, are you okay? You’re flushed. You’re not feeling ill, are you?”

I shook my head and held up my notebook.

“Oh my word. Lina, did you draw that?” The librarian quickly reached for the pad.

I nodded, smiling.

THE SUN BEGAN TO SET. Mother braided my wavy, sweaty hair. I tried to count how many hours we had spent in the prison box, and wondered how many more we had to go. People ate the food they had brought. Most shared. Some didn’t.

“Lina, that loaf of bread,” Mother began.

I shook my head. Was that loaf of bread still there, sitting on my desk? “I don’t have the bread,” I replied.

“All right,” said Mother, taking some food to Ona. Her lips pursed, she was disappointed.

Andrius sat with his knees drawn up, smoking a cigarette. He was staring at me.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Seventeen.” He continued to stare.

“How long have you been smoking?”

“What are you, the police?” he said, and looked away.

Night came. It was dark in our wooden box. Mother said we should be thankful they left the door open. I wasn’t about to thank the NKVD for anything. Every few minutes I heard their boots marching by. I couldn’t sleep. I wondered if there was a moon out, and if so, what it looked like. Papa said scientists speculated that from the moon, the earth looked blue. That night I believed it. I would draw it blue and heavy with tears. Where was Papa? I closed my eyes.

Something bumped my shoulder. I opened my eyes. It was lighter in the train car. Andrius stood above, nudging me with his shoe. He put his finger to his lips and motioned with his head. I looked over at Mother. She slept, clutching her coat tightly around her. Jonas was gone. My head snapped around, looking for my brother. Andrius kicked me again and waved me forward.

I got up and stepped between the human bundles toward the door of the train car. Jonas stood at the opening, clutching the side. “Andrius said that an hour ago, a long train came in. Someone told him it was full of men,” whispered Jonas. “Maybe Papa is on it.”

“Who told you that?” I asked Andrius.

“Don’t worry who told me,” he said. “Let’s look for our fathers.”

I looked down off the train. The sun had just appeared on the horizon. If Papa was at the train station, I wanted to find him.

“I’ll go and let you know what I find out,” I said. “Where is the train that pulled in?”

“In back of us. But you’re not going,” said Andrius. “I’ll go.”

“How are you going to find my father? You don’t know what he looks like,” I snapped.

“Are you always so pleasant?” said Andrius.

“Maybe you can both go,” suggested Jonas.

“I can go by myself,” I said. “I’ll find Papa and bring him to our car.”

“This is ridiculous. We’re wasting time. I shouldn’t have woken you up,” said Andrius.

I looked out of the train car. The guard was a hundred feet away, his back to me. I hung down off the edge and dropped quietly to the ground, scrambling under the train. Andrius beat me there. Suddenly, we heard a yelp and saw Jonas jumping down. Andrius grabbed him and we tried to hide behind one of the wheels, peeking under the train. The NKVD officer stopped and turned around.

I put my hand over Jonas’s mouth. We crouched near the wheel, afraid to breathe. The officer resumed walking.

Andrius peeked out the other side and waved us on. I crawled out. The back of our train car had Russian writing on it.

“‘Thieves and prostitutes,’” Andrius whispered. “That’s what it says.”

Thieves and prostitutes. Our mothers were in that car, along with a teacher, a librarian, elderly people, and a newborn baby—thieves and prostitutes. Jonas looked at the writing. I grabbed his hand, thankful he couldn’t read Russian. I wished he had stayed on the train.

Another line of red cattle wagons sat on tracks behind ours. The doors, however, were closed and locked with large bolts. We looked around, then ran under the other train, dodging the splatters of waste. Andrius knocked on the bottom near a bathroom hole. A shadow appeared.

“What’s your father’s name?” Andrius asked me.

“Kostas Vilkas,” I said quickly.