Sofi Oksanen - Purge

The first time Ingel and Aliide were taken into the town hall for questioning, the man who greeted them offered apologies if his underlings had behaved rudely when bringing the two of them in. “My dear comrades, they have no manners.”

Ingel was taken into one room, Aliide into another. The man opened the door for her, offered her a chair, and urged her to be seated.

“First I’ll just go over some of your paperwork. Then we can begin.”

He leafed through his papers. The clock ticked. Men went up and down the hallway. Aliide could feel their footsteps on the soles of her feet. The floor trembled. She concentrated on staring at the door frame. It seemed to move. The cracks between the tiles on the floor swayed like a spider’s legs. The hands of the clock bit off a new hour, and the man just kept flipping through his papers. Another hour began. The man glanced at Aliide and gave her a friendly smile. Then he got up, told her he was sorry but he had to attend to a certain matter and would be back in no time and then they could begin right away. He disappeared into the hallway. The third hour began. And the fourth. Aliide got up from her chair and went to the door. She tried the handle; the door opened. A man was standing outside the door; she closed it and went back to her chair. Linda had been playing at Aino’s when the men came for them. Aino must be wondering where they were.

The door opened.

“Now we can begin. Where were you going just now? Let’s clear that up first.”

“I was looking for the powder room.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so? Would you like to use the restroom now?”

“No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

Aliide nodded. The man lit a paperossi and started by asking if she could tell them the whereabouts of Hans Pekk. Aliide replied that Hans had died a long time ago. A murderrobbery. The man asked her this and that about Hans’s death, and then he said, “But all joking aside, are you sure, Comrade Aliide, that Hans Pekk wouldn’t tell us your location, if he were in your position?”

“Hans Pekk is dead.”

“Are you sure, Comrade Aliide, that your sister isn’t, at this very moment, telling us, for example, that the two of you have fabricated a story about Hans Pekk’s death, and that everything you are saying is a lie?”

“Hans Pekk is dead.”

“Comrade, your sister doesn’t want to be taken to court or to jail-I’m sure you’re aware of that?”

“My sister wouldn’t tell such lies.”

“Are you sure, Comrade Aliide?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure that Hans Pekk won’t tell us the names of the people who have assisted him in his crimes and deceptions? Are you sure that Hans Pekk won’t mention your name among them? I’m only thinking of what’s best for you, Comrade Aliide. I would be more than happy to believe that such a beautiful young woman wouldn’t have ended up in this kind of trouble if she hadn’t been deceived into giving assistance to a criminal. A criminal so skillful at deception that he had completely turned a young girl’s head. Comrade Aliide, be sensible. I beg you, save yourself.”

“Hans Pekk is dead.”

“Show us his body and we won’t have to discuss the matter any further! Comrade Aliide, you will have only yourself to blame if you get into trouble for the sake of this Hans Pekk. Or his wife. I’ve done all I can to ensure that a beauty like you can go on with her life as normal-there’s nothing more I can do. Help me, so that I can help you.”

The man took hold of her hand and squeezed it.

“I only want what’s best for you. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

Aliide wrenched her hand away.

“Hans Pekk is dead!”

“Perhaps that will be enough for today. We’ll meet again, Comrade Aliide.”

He opened the door for her and wished her a good night.

Ingel was waiting outside. They left together on foot, silent. It wasn’t until Aino’s house loomed into view that Ingel cleared her throat.

“What did they ask you?”

“They asked about Hans. I didn’t tell them anything.”

“Neither did I.”

“What else did they say? What did they ask you?”

“Nothing else.”

“Me either.”

“What should we tell Hans? And Aino?”

“We should say that they asked about something else. And that we didn’t give them any information about anybody.”

“What if Hendrik Ristla talks?”

“He won’t talk.”

“How can we be sure?”

“Hans said that Hendrik Ristla was the only person he trusted enough to help us with our story.”

“What if Linda talks?”

“Linda knows that her father really did die, not just for pretend.”

“But they’ll come to question us again.”

“We came out all right this time, didn’t we? We’ll come out all right next time.”

The swallows were already gone, but the cranes plowed through the air, their necks straight. Their cries fell on the fields and made Aliide’s head hurt. Unlike her, they could leave; they had the freedom to go wherever they wanted. She only had the freedom to go mushrooming. Her basket was full of saffron caps and milk caps. Ingel was waiting at home; she would be happy with the haul. Aliide would wash them, Ingel might let her blanch them but would look over her shoulder the whole time, and she would can them, demanding that Aliide pay attention, because she would never be able to run her own home if she didn’t know how to marinate mushrooms. She might know how to brine them, but the marinade took skill. And soon there would be several jars on the pantry shelf, Ingel’s handiwork, a couple jars less hunger this winter.

Aliide put her free hand over her ear. So many cranes! That cry! She felt the autumn through her leather shoes. Thirst scratched at her throat. And then suddenly there was a motorcycle and a man in a leather coat who pulled up next to her.

“Whatcha got in the basket?”

“Mushrooms. I’ve just been out picking them.” The man grabbed the basket, looked inside, and threw

it away. The mushrooms pattered onto the ground. Aliide stared at them; she didn’t dare look at the man. It was going to happen now. She had to remain calm. She couldn’t get nervous, couldn’t show the fear swishing inside her. Cold sweat ran down the backs of her knees into her shoes and numbness started to spread over her body, blood leaving her limbs. Maybe nothing was going to happen. Maybe she was afraid for no reason.

“Haven’t you been to see us before? With your sister. You’re the bandit’s wife’s sister.”

Aliide stared at the mushrooms. She could see the leather coat out of the corner of her eye. It squeaked when he moved. He chuckled, his ears red. His chrome-tanned boots shone, although the road was dusty and he wasn’t German. Should she run? Trust that he wouldn’t shoot her in the back? Or hope that he’d miss? But then he would go straight to her house and get Ingel and Linda and wait there for her to come home. And wasn’t running away always an admission of guilt?

At the town hall, the big-eared man reported that Aliide had been bringing food to the bandits. The light shone through his earlobes. He pushed Aliide to stand in the middle of the room, and then he left.

“I’m disappointed in you, Comrade Aliide.” It was the same voice as the first time. The same man.

Are you sure, Comrade Aliide? He stood up beside the desk, which was hidden in the darkness, looked at her, shook his head, and sighed deeply. He was very sad.