“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.
“We’re looking for Petras Arvydas and Kostas Vilkas,” he whispered.
The head disappeared. We heard scuffling on the floor of the car. The head reappeared. “Not in this car. Be careful, children. Be very quiet.”
We scurried from car to car, dodging droppings and knocking. Each time a head disappeared, I felt my stomach tighten. “Please, please, please,” Jonas would say. And then we’d move on, with warnings of caution or messages for loved ones. We reached the seventh car. The man’s head disappeared. It was quiet inside. “Please, please, please,” said Jonas.
“Jonas?”
“Papa!” we said, trying not to raise our voices. A match scraped across a wood plank. Papa’s face appeared in the hole. He looked gray, and his eye was badly bruised.
“Papa, we’re in a car over there,” began Jonas. “Come with us.”
“Shh...,” said Papa. “I can’t. You shouldn’t be here. Where is your mother?”
“In the car,” I said, happy yet horrified to see my father’s bludgeoned face. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay,” he said. “Are you okay? Is your mother okay?”
“We’re okay,” I said.
“She doesn’t know we’re here,” said Jonas. “We wanted to find you. Papa, they broke into our house and—”
“I know. They’re attaching our train to yours.”
“Where are they taking us?” I asked.
“To Siberia, I think.”
Siberia? That couldn’t be right. Siberia was half a world away. There was nothing in Siberia. I heard Papa talking inside the train car. His arm came out of the hole holding some scrunched-up material.
“Take this jacket and these socks. You’ll need them.” More noise came from inside. Papa handed out another jacket, two shirts, and more socks. He then handed down a large piece of ham.
“Children, split this. Eat it,” Papa said.
I hesitated and stared at the ham my father handed through the same hole people used as a toilet.
“Put it in your mouths right now!” he said.
I tore the thick piece of ham in quarters and handed some to Jonas and Andrius. I put the last piece in my dress pocket for Mother.
“Lina, take this and give it to your mother. Tell her it’s okay to sell it, if she has to.” Papa’s hand came down to me, holding his gold wedding band. I stared at it.
“Lina, do you understand? Tell her it’s in case she needs money.”
I wanted to tell him we had already traded a pocket watch for Jonas. I nodded and put the ring on my thumb, not able to swallow the ham past the lump in my throat.
“Sir,” said Andrius, “is Petras Arvydas in your car?”
“I’m sorry, son, he’s not,” said Papa. “This is very dangerous. You must all get back to your train.”
I nodded.
“Jonas.”
“Yes, Papa?” Jonas said, peering up at the hole.
“You’re very brave to have come. You must all stay together. I know you’ll take good care of your sister and mother while I am away.”
“I will, Papa, I promise,” said Jonas. “When will we see you?”
Papa paused. “I don’t know. Hopefully soon.”
I clutched the bundle of clothes. Tears began dropping down my cheeks.
“Don’t cry, Lina. Courage,” said Papa. “You can help me.”
I looked up at him.
“Do you understand?” My father looked at Andrius, hesitant. “You can help me find you,” he whispered. “I’ll know it’s you ... just like you know Munch. But you must be very careful.”
“But,” I started, uncertain.
“I love you both. Tell your mother I love her. Tell her to think of the oak tree. Say your prayers, children, and I will hear them. Pray for Lithuania. Now run back. Hurry!”
My chest hurt and my eyes burned. I started to walk but stumbled.
Andrius caught me. “Are you okay?” he asked. His face looked soft, concerned.
“I’m fine,” I said, quickly wiping my eyes and pulling free of his grasp. “Let’s go find your father.”
“No, you heard him. Hurry, run back. Tell your mother what he said.”
“But what about your father?” I asked.
“I’m going to try a few more. I’ll meet you back at our car,” he said. “Just go, Lina. You’re wasting time.”
I hesitated.
“Are you scared to go alone?”
“No! I’m not scared,” I said. “My father said we should stay together, but we’ll go by ourselves.” I snatched Jonas by the hand. “We don’t need him, right, Jonas?”
Jonas stumbled, looking over his shoulder at Andrius.
12
“HALT!” a voice commanded.
We were so close, nearly under our train car. NKVD boots marched toward us. I tucked my thumb and Papa’s wedding band into my palm.
“Davai!” the voice yelled.
Jonas and I crept out from under the car.