Finally, the horses slow to a halt and Bella steps quickly out of the wagon. The sky has dimmed by several shades; soon it will match the color of the horses’ slick, black coats. Tomek climbs from the driver’s bench. In his black hat and dark trench coat, he is barely visible in the shadows. Bella stares at him, her pulse still racing, as he begins unbridling the horses.
“Sorry for the silence,” he says, slipping the bits from the horses’ mouths. “You never know who might be listening.” Bella nods, waiting. “We’re about three kilometers from a back road that leads to Lvov,” Tomek continues. “There’s a clearing up ahead. A meadow. I imagine it’s unmanned, but you’ll have to crawl across it to be safe. The grass should be tall enough to keep you out of sight.” Bella squints in the direction of the clearing but it’s too dark to see anything. Tomek nods, as if reassuring himself his plan will work. “Once you cross the meadow, you’ll have to walk southeast through the forest for about an hour, and then you’ll reach the road. By then I believe you’ll have skirted the front. . . .” He pauses. “Unless the Germans have the city surrounded . . . in which case you’ll have to wait for them to move ahead, or cross the front line on your own. Either way,” he says, finally looking her in the eye, “I think you’re better off without me.”
Bella stares at Tomek, digesting the implication of his plan. To travel alone, and on foot—it sounded outrageous. She would be mad to consider it. She can hear herself explaining the idea to Jakob, to his father; their responses would be the same: Don’t do it.
“Alternatively we turn around and return as quickly as we can, and search for some food along the way,” Tomek says quietly.
It would be the safer thing, to go home—but Bella knows she can’t. Her mind churns. She tries to swallow, but the back of her throat is like sandpaper and instead she coughs. Tomek is right. Without the wagon she’ll be less conspicuous. And if she did run into Germans, they’d be more likely to let her by than they would an old man, a young woman, and a two-horse wagon. She bites the inside corner of her bottom lip, silent for a minute.
“Tak,” she says finally, looking in the direction of the clearing. Yes, she resolves. What other choice does she have? She’s just a few hours from Lvov. From Jakob. Her ukochany, her love. She can’t turn back now. She rests a hand on the wagon’s frame, her limbs suddenly heavy with the weight of her decision. If there are soldiers patrolling the meadow, she doubts she can make it across unnoticed. And if she does reach the other side . . . there’s no telling who or what may be lurking beneath the forest canopy. Enough, she scolds silently. You’ve come this far. You can do this.
“Tak,” she breathes, nodding. “Yes, this will work. It has to work.”
“All right then,” Tomek says, quietly.
“All right then.” Bella runs a hand over her auburn hair, thick as wool from so many days without a wash; she’d given up trying to pull a comb through it. She clears her throat. “I’ll leave now.”
“You’ll be better leaving in the morning,” Tomek says, “when it’s not so dark. I’ll stay with you until dawn.”
Of course. She’ll need the daylight to find her way. “Thank you,” Bella whispers, realizing that Tomek, too, has a treacherous journey ahead. She climbs back into the wagon, rummaging around the provisions box for the last of their hard-boiled eggs. When she finds it she peels it, and returns to Tomek. “Here,” she says, breaking it in half.
Tomek hesitates before taking it. “Thank you.”
“Tell Pan Kurc you did everything you could to get me to Lvov. If—” she straightens, “when I make it, I’ll write to let him know I’m safe.”
“I will.”
Bella nods, and there is a silence between them as she contemplates what she has just agreed to. Would Tomek wake up and come to his senses, realizing that the plan was too risky? Would he try to talk her out of it in the morning?
“Get some rest,” Tomek offers as he turns back to the horses.
Bella forces a smile. “I’ll try.” As she steps back up into the wagon, she pauses. “Tomek,” she calls, feeling guilty for questioning his intentions. Tomek looks up. “Thank you—for getting us this far.”
Tomek nods.
“Good night, then,” Bella says.
Inside the wagon, Bella flattens Jakob’s overcoat out on the floor and climbs on top, stretching out onto her back. Bringing a palm to her heart and the other to her abdomen, she inhales and exhales slowly, willing herself to relax. It’s the right decision, she tells herself, blinking into the darkness.
—
The next morning, Bella awakens at daybreak from a light, restless sleep. Rubbing her eyes, she fumbles for the wagon’s side door flap. Outside, a few dense rays of light have begun to sift through the clouds, just barely illuminating the spaces between the tree limbs overhead. Tomek has already rolled up his tent and sleeping mat and harnessed the horses. He nods in her direction, then returns to his work. Apparently, he hasn’t had a change of heart. Bella slips a boiled potato into her pocket, leaving three for Tomek. After buttoning her coat, and then Jakob’s over hers, she reaches for the bread loaf and climbs out of the wagon. As onerous as the journey ahead may be, she won’t mind leaving behind the cramped, mildewed space she’s called home for the better part of two weeks.
Tomek is tinkering with one of the horse’s bridles. As Bella approaches, she finds herself wishing she knew him better, well enough at least to part with a hug—an embrace of some kind that would boost her strength, fill her with the courage she’d need to go through with the plan. But she doesn’t. She barely knows him at all.
“I want to tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me,” she says, extending a hand. It’s important to her all of a sudden to acknowledge the small but immeasureably important role Tomek has played in her life. He takes her hand. His grip is surprisingly strong. Beside them, the horses grow restless. One of them shakes his head and his bit jingles; the other snorts, paws the ground. They, too, are ready to reach the end of their journey. “Oh, Tomek, I nearly forgot,” Bella adds, fishing a ten-zloty bill from her pocket. “You’ll need some food—a couple of potatoes won’t do.” She holds the zloty out for him. “Take it. Please.”
Tomek glances at his feet and then back up at Bella. He takes the note.
“Good luck to you,” Bella offers.
“Same to you. God bless.”
Bella nods and then turns and begins making her way under the cover of the forest toward the meadow.
After a few minutes, she reaches the edge of the clearing and pauses, scanning the open space for a sign of life. The meadow, as far as she can tell, is empty. She glances over her shoulder to see if Tomek is watching—but beneath the oak trees there are only empty shadows. Has he already left? She shivers as she realizes just how alone she is. You agreed to this, she reminds herself. You’re better off alone.
She hikes her skirt up over her knees, ties it in a loose knot at her thigh, and then tucks the bread loaf under Jakob’s coat and adjusts it so the loaf rests on her back. There. Now she can move more easily. Squatting, she brings her palms and then her knees silently to the ground.