Anush’s shoes, in particular, are a lovely sight. She wears a brilliant pair of dark blue suede shoes with a large silver buckle that gleams in the sun. As she walks, the sunlight kisses the sweet little buckle now and then, shooting sparks of light into the dusty air. Lucine’s eyes chase these sparks, irregular and unexpected as they are, and her spirit soars with each whimsical, short-lived dance. Her attention is so fixed that at first she does not hear the sound of galloping hooves. But the sound crescendos until both Anush and Lucine are engulfed in a dust.
“Asdvaz! Dear God!” Mairig wields her voice like a sword through the air, but the sisters are hidden in a dirt chamber. Lucine sees nothing but a uniformed arm reach down. Thick fingers clamp down on Anush’s braids, pulling at them like ropes. Anush screams, holding the side of her head where the hair is being torn out. Before Lucine can react, the great arm scoops Anush’s tiny waist up. Lucine catches a glimpse of the man’s face. She sees the hard eyes and familiar mustache of the captain who doesn’t believe in wasting bullets. Anush lunges forward, arms stretching toward Lucine, but the uniformed arm cinches like a tight belt at her waist. Lucine holds her sister’s terrified gaze for a fleeting moment before it recedes with the sound of the hooves. She is left standing only a few feet from where Anush was a moment ago, a cloud of dust settling back at her feet.
When she looks down, one dark blue shoe lies on its side, its shiny silver buckle hiding from the sun. Mairig runs up behind her with such force that they both tumble to the ground. “Aman aman . . .” Mairig screams, tearing at her hair, wailing at her deaf mute god. Lucine swallows her tears. She turns around, staring ahead back toward the road that brought them here. It is empty and nondescript. Nothing about it, not the few discarded articles on the ground nor the absence of the gendarme on horseback, hints at what has happened here.
“Get up! Keep moving!” The turbaned gendarme is yelling again. He kicks the ground and a fresh batch of dust circles the air. Lucine looks ahead for the horsebacked officer, but he has vanished.
Bedros comes running from behind, carrying baby Aram. He has left the oxcart with all their remaining provisions behind.
“Mairig, Mairig,” he calls, holding the baby out to her.
Mairig stands but does not reach for the bundled infant. She drags her feet forward in a stupor. It is Lucine who must take the baby from Bedros. She places Aram into the crook of one arm and squeezes Bedros’s hand.
“You stay close to me,” she says, looking him in the face. “Do you understand?” Her voice is louder and angrier than she intends it to be and Bedros whimpers. But Lucine is too broken to apologize or comfort him. She keeps her grip tight and wills herself to walk on.
CHAPTER 20
Empty Prayers
LUCINE TURNS HER head back again and again, scanning the line of deportees for Anush. She reminds herself repeatedly that girls who are violated in the night are sometimes returned. They weep and hide their faces in shame, but they return. The thought of Anush’s thick brown braids and warm embrace make Lucine’s insides weak. If only Uncle Nazareth or Hairig were here, things would be different. They would find Anush and get them all out of this misery. They would show that gendarme where to stick his bayonet.
Mairig, who insists on walking, shows no interest in taking Aram from Lucine. Tucked under the soft folds of her brother’s swaddling clothes, below the faint scent of breast milk, is a velvet pouch containing Mairig’s hidden treasures: two gold bangles, meant for her daughters when they marry; an emerald brooch in the shape of a cross that belonged to their grandmother; and the ruby ring Hairig had recently given her. Local merchants keep approaching the caravan, selling a handful of almonds for a gold ring or six dried figs for a silver spoon. So far Mairig has kept her treasure to herself. She didn’t reach into it, even when the old women from Tokat needed to bribe the gendarmes. And it’s a good thing, because they may need Mairig’s treasure to rescue Anush.
Now and then, Lucine can hear Mairig catapulting a prayer or two to the heavens in a low angry voice. She uses words that she’s never used before, words that curse and damn things, words that she would have pulled Lucine’s ear for, if she ever used them. Mairig’s eyes have lost their focus; Lucine wishes she would stop looking past them. Not even Aram’s crying can claim her attention.