Aimie Runyan - Daughters of the Night Sky

“My life,” he replied.

“Let’s not waste our last days arguing this again,” I beseeched him in a whisper. “I couldn’t handle staying home if you were still out there fighting.”

He pulled me onto his lap, as gingerly as if I were made of spun glass. He held me, and in that moment nothing existed but the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his arms around me. “If I weren’t fighting,” he said, “would it be different?”

I lifted my head from his shoulder and looked into the depths of his black eyes. “I don’t see why we’re speaking in hypotheticals, love. They would never let you leave.”

“I’m not talking about getting sanctioned leave,” Vanya said, barely audible, scanning the yard for listening ears. “Father has connections. I’ve served long enough and honorably enough he might not object to me using them. Travel papers.”

“You said you couldn’t let your comrades down, Vanya.”

“There are more important things than duty to the motherland, dearest. My duty to you being chief among them.”

I clutched him tighter, weaving my hands in his hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

“We all deserve better than this. Say you’ll come with me. We’ll make an excuse for me to accompany you back to Miass, and we can go to my father’s contacts while we’re there. We’d have to get to Turkey first, then anywhere you like that’s not bogged down in this mire. Portugal or Spain. Ireland. Switzerland if you want mountains. I’d prefer America or Canada if we can get passage, but that might be a tall order.”

“And if they find us out before we reach the border? You’d be shot on sight for desertion. Me, too, most likely.”

“I like my odds better with our own men than the Germans,” Vanya said. “There is no shame in saving our own skins.”

Taisiya’s face loomed in my mind… She’d never intended to be a martyr for the cause. She’d wanted to fight, save the motherland, and go home to Matvei. But she’d done her duty willingly.

Vanya blanched at my silence. “Come away with me, my darling. Promise me now.”

There were seventy women to the west who anticipated my return. Oksana was counting on me to help guide her as she led us into battle. Yet, compared to the pleading in my husband’s eyes, my call to duty was suddenly nothing.

“Will there be trouble for Mama?” I asked, resting my head once more on his shoulder. “I won’t save my skin to risk hers.”

“The party is too preoccupied to worry about a washerwoman in the Urals. Besides, you can resign your post without dishonor. It’s my parents who would face any trouble, and I assure you, Father will be fine.”

Remembering Antonin Solonev’s iron spirit, I did not doubt this, nor that Vanya’s mother would be shielded by him.

“Portugal,” I said. “I don’t know the language, but I can learn.”

Vanya drew my face in for a long kiss, then pulled away. “You’re saving my life, Katyushka.”

“It’s the only thing dearer to me than my own.”

“I’m going into town to wire Father. See what he advises,” Vanya said, standing me carefully back on my feet. “Stay out here and get some rest in the sun. You’ll need your strength to travel.”

I caressed his cheek, and kissed him in farewell. “Be careful,” I urged.

As he bounded off to the telegraph office, I saw a spring in his step that I hadn’t seen since he’d arrived.

I did as he bid and curled up on the old chaise, basking in the sun like a spoiled house cat. Safe and protected. I imagined spending many such hours under the Portuguese sun and wondered how many years it would take for me to learn to rest without the looming guilt of one who had abandoned her sisters in arms.

Vanya returned to the hospital with his father’s response and the latest newspaper.

Antonin’s reply had been almost instantaneous: Do not come home. Contact will come to you.

“What did you put in the wire?” I asked. “Nothing too obvious?”

“No. I just asked if a certain ‘friend’ of his was still near Chelyabinsk. He knows the only reason I would have need of this man—Comrade Osin—is for papers. Father’s message told me what I expected—he’s out closer to the west, where he can profit the most. Father will send him word that I need to see him.”

“He sounds like a reputable sort,” I said with a derisive laugh.

“There’s good reason Mother and I were always sent from the room when he came to see Father, of that I’m certain. Anything more, I don’t want to know.”

“Wise,” I said, rubbing my temples against the thrumming behind my eyes.

“Are you all right?” He wrapped an arm around me, looking up from his paper.

“Fine, fine.” I nodded at the newspaper. “Tell me what’s going on in the world. My head aches too much for me to read for myself.”

“You need to tell the medics,” he chided.

“So they can do what? It’s the medicine that gives me the headaches. Either my side is unbearable, or my head is. They don’t have many choices this far from the front,” I reminded him. I closed my eyes, continuing to massage my head, taking in steady breaths. “News, please.”

“The usual guff. The tide is about to turn. We’ll retake Leningrad and push the Germans back to Berlin… the same things they’ve said for the past year, none of it coming to pass.”

“Watch yourself,” I said, opening one eye. “Ears.”

“Right,” he said. “God, I hope Osin turns up quickly. If we don’t get our papers before my leave is up, it will complicate things.”

“How so?”

“They’ll have people looking for me. I’d prefer that didn’t happen until we’re out of the country.”

“Even if he manages to get papers for us, how are we going to get out of here?” I asked, tracing the words on Antonin’s wire with my index finger.

“I’ll buy a truck,” he said. “That should get us through to Turkey, and then we’ll rest and figure out what comes next. Portugal, if that’s what you want.”

“And you trust that Osin to help us?”

“He’d sell his own babushka for a price. And he’s never refused Father anything.”

“I don’t like this,” I said, keeping my voice even. “So many things could go wrong. And I don’t want to put our lives in the hands of a stranger.”

Vanya stilled my tracing with his hand. “You don’t trust him, but do you trust me?”

“With my life, on many occasions.”

“Then trust me with it once more. I will get us out of here.”

I nodded and concealed the grimace, laced with fear and uncertainty, that loomed at my lips.

Osin was two days in coming to us—much faster than we expected. I had expected a man with a weaselish face. The sort where his eyes never fully opened, always scheming, and where his nose came to such a sharp end it seemed he was always pointing an accusing finger at you. But as was typical of the world, he wasn’t given a face that betrayed his dubious business connections and shady politics. He’d been graced with a strong jaw, flashing blue eyes, and a convivial demeanor that encouraged openness.

“Young Comrade Solonev and his lovely bride,” he said, shaking Vanya’s hand and kissing my own with a flourish before taking a seat in the courtyard. We’d opted for an outdoor meeting so there would be less chance of us being overheard. “I admit I was surprised to hear from my old friend that his son was in need of my assistance. Of course, I am so happy to be of use to you in these difficult times.”