Dawn rose slowly. Hanna awoke from a fitful sleep to hear Jakob moaning. She had lain next to him to keep him warm, and the shelter, dug into the side of a peat pit, had helped to retain heat. Throughout the night, Jakob had passed in and out of his coma, and Hanna had awakened each time, feeling more and more inadequate to help him. One sign at least had been favorable–the bleeding had been arrested.
“Jakob,” she said softly. In the dim light, she could make out that he was stirring.
His moaning stopped. There was a moment of silence as if he was collecting his senses. “Is that you, Hanna?” His voice was reed thin.
“Yes.”
“Where are we?”
“Stephen brought us to a shack in the peat field.”
There was a few seconds of silence. “Stephen?”
“Yes. He arrived right after you were wounded.” She sat up. “He has gone for a doctor. Please hold out, Jakob.”
He was having trouble breathing. She saw him lift his hand to his chest. “Are you injured?” he asked her.
“No. Thanks to you.” She got up and opened the door to let in more light. Outside was a thin curtain of morning fog. She looked about. All she could see were mounds of broken peat piles. She came back to Jakob. His face was still deathly white and lined with pain. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I’m very thirsty. But I don’t think I should drink with a chest wound.”
She could not help grinning. “From Torah?”
He chuckled, and then gasped with pain. When he caught his breath, he said, “Come to think of it, I’m not sure whether you shouldn’t drink if you have a chest wound or a stomach wound.” The few words tired him at once, and he began puffing with difficulty.
She leaned forward and felt his brow. He drew back at her touch, and then relaxed. His forehead was very warm. “I think you have a fever.”
He nodded. “I feel it. I had fevers often when I was recuperating from tuberculosis.”
“I didn’t know you had it.”
“That’s why my father sent me here. To get the fresh air.”
“No wonder you were so thin when you came.” She fell silent, looking at him carefully. The chest wound, she realized, was doubly dangerous now. She saw his lips moving again, and as he prayed, his hands began to relax from the fists he had formed to fight the pain, then his tight, drawn face slackened, and finally he slipped into a coma-sleep. Hanna let herself lay back onto the hard packed peat floor and soon dozed off again.
She was surprised to see the sun shining brightly when she awoke. From its angle, it was noon or later. She looked over at Jakob. He had barely moved from his former position, but his breathing was shallow and uneven.
She stepped outside. The warmth was pleasant to her face. She was starving. Without a breakfast, each hour was as if she had not eaten for a day. Concern about Stephen preyed on her mind. He should have been back long before now unless something serious happened. Her main hope was that he had persuaded Larisa to visit the children to make certain they were well. Gitel was old enough to prepare simple meals for the family if need be, and Uncle Samuel would surely have sent his daughter, Zelda, to supervise things once he heard of the circumstances.
A band of steel gripped her heart as she thought again of the consequences of her simple act of warning Hershel. Now she was a murderer, being hunted like a wild animal, and would be put to death horribly if she was apprehended. Jakob was dying. Gentle, intelligent Jakob, turned into a murderer also because of her, who would be put to death as quickly if he lasted long enough for the police to find him. And Stephen, implicated to the point of being as guilty. Perhaps he could escape death for helping, but he would certainly be sent to prison, and his future destroyed. Hanna almost broke into tears when she thought of the children. They would receive little more mercy than criminals themselves. At the very least, they would be sent to different homes, not to be reared with the love and devotion she could offer, but as servants or workers. Six year old children were often driven into the fields or into factories to work ten hour shifts with the adults, to be brutalized whenever they were unable to meet their daily quota. Good God! What had she done to them!
The tears finally came, but she brushed them away brusquely. As Papa had often said, “It is done. The milk is spilled. Clean it up and get back to milking again.” She must consider her next move. Somehow, she must find help for Jakob first of all. Then, when he is either safe or dead, she must leave this area and hide. Kaunas was out of the question. The police would scour that city first of all. It would have to be Vilnius. It was large enough to go underground. But who could she turn to there? Who would be insane enough to jeopardize himself or a family for her.
She climbed a path to the top of the pit and peeked over. A long field of swaying wheat stretched towards the east in the direction of Gremai. To the South, where the Nemunas flowed, were the huge peat fields, covering twenty or thirty hectares. Some of the village children had once been apprehended by the owner, a burly Russian merchant residing in Kaunas, in the act of taking bags of peat. He had forced the seniunas to call the gendarmes and charge the families with theft. The fathers had been hauled in front of a magistrate and heavily fined. Then at intervals the owner had sent men to check on the pits, but the magistrate’s action had served its purpose. So the fields were left untouched until the fall, when teams of men would dig out supplies for the winter.
To the West, towards the Baltic Sea, were checkerboards of farms and pine forests, many recovering from indiscriminate cutting by the Tzar.
Hanna sat there eyeing the East, from where Stephen would come.
After an hour or so, it struck her that she was taking an unnecessary risk of being sighted, so she returned to the shack. One touch of the restless, red blotched face of Jakob told her the worst, that fever was racking him. He was in great pain. A profound helplessness swept over her. Jakob was dying in front of her eyes; something awful had befallen Stephen, or else he would have been back long before now; there was the uncertainty of what was happening to the children. She must give up. Whatever she must face would be better than the strain of suspense.
Then, from deep inside, came a flush of anger at herself. This is not what I was born to, nor raised for. I will not forfeit Jakob and Stephen and my child and brother and sisters without fighting back. If I am to lose everything, including my life, I will not sit still and wait for it to occur. Comes nightfall, I will go for help. I will try Slabodka. If one person refuses to help, I will ask another, then another. If I am apprehended, I will be taken in the course of doing something. I can do no less, nor do more.
She went back in the peat pit. Here and there were pools of tepid water from previous rains and morning fog. She slipped out of her skirt and bloomers and rinsed from them the dried blood, then the stains from her body. She could not suffer to look at her vulva. What had come from it was her life’s blood–hers and Stephen’s.
At another pool, she dipped in the bloomers, then carried the sopping cotton back to the shack and started wiping Jakob’s face and forehead. His mouth opened to suck at the moisture, but she kept it away.
“You must not drink the water,” she told him, not certain that he understood. “It is not pure.” By the time evening shadows drew over the fields, Jakob seemed somewhat relieved.
She decided to wait another hour or two before going out to seek help, so she lay down to get some rest. She awoke from a deep, exhausted sleep at the sound of her name being called. A few moments later, the door opened, and Stephen walked in. A wave of joy and relief flooded throughout, and she leaped to her feet and into his embrace.
“Oh, Stephen,” she cried, hugging him with all her strength. “I was so worried about you.”
Their lips met with longing. When he could pull away, he said, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, my darling. All is well now.”
“How is Jakob?”
“Still bad.”
“Wait a minute.” He went outside and brought in a heavily packed sleeping roll. Opening it, he took out a candle and lit it. Then came two canteens, canned foods, bread, cooked chicken wrapped in cloth, and fresh vegetables. He handed over a canteen. “There’s water inside.” Gratefully, she took a long swig, and then sat down with a sigh. Stephen lifted the candle and inspected Jakob. “He doesn’t look good,” he commented. “I didn’t think he would still be alive.”
“Did you contact a doctor?” asked Hanna.
He shook his head. “Impossible. I’ll tell you about it later. First of all, begin eating.”
As hungry as she was, she had a question on her lips from the moment she recognized Stephen. “What of the children?”
Stephen stopped laying out the food. In the candlelight she saw once again sorrow on his face. “They are with George Wilson, the American.”
“With Mr. Wilson?” she asked, surprised. “Whatever for? Why didn’t Uncle Sam take them?”
Stephen sank back on his haunches. “Your Uncle Samuel has been arrested.”
“Why?”
“It’s as I suspected, Hanna. Everyone thinks it’s a Jewish conspiracy, and that you are involved. Scores of people have been arrested.”
“Good Lord,” gasped Hanna. “Is someone watching the house?”
Stephen’s face tightened even further. “The gendarmes ransacked the house, and then burned it down.”
Hanna could not hold back the cry of despair. Tears filled her eyes. “Stephen, what have I done?”
“It’s not a matter of what you’ve done, dearest. It’s now a matter of keeping clear of the police and soldiers. But I’m not going to say another word until you start eating.”
Hanna wiped her tears. Her appetite had fled at the terrible news, but she realized that she must eat to keep up her strength. He handed over a piece of chicken, radishes, cucumbers, and carrots. She took a bite, and almost at once, she felt famished again.
“I couldn’t come sooner,” said Stephen. “Everything is in an uproar. They’ve brought in companies of soldiers and police, and they are already scouring the area. Others are searching Kaunas and most of the neighboring towns and villages. The police even have patrol boats cruising the river.”
“They will come here sooner or later, won’t they?”
“There’s no doubt of that. The news has spread throughout Russia. It has been exploited out of proportion. I was lucky last night. I arrived home half an hour before the gendarmes came. Someone told them that Larisa and I knew you. I explained that we had gone fishing a couple of times, and that I was…well, making a play for you.”
“What about a doctor for Jakob?” she asked again.
“It’s out of the question. The only way I could get back here was by pretending I was leaving early for the university. I took the train this morning, got off at the first stop, hitched a ride back on the north side of the river, and rented a boat to row over. I had a devil of a time avoiding the patrols.”
“You must be exhausted. Lie down and rest.”
He rummaged through the roll. “I have something for you.” He took out an orange and an apple. Hanna’s eyes grew soft as he handed them over. Oranges were a delicacy. “There’s no time to rest. We must move on tonight.”
“We cannot do that. Jakob will die.”
Stephen snorted with exasperation. “If I had any sense, I’d drape you over my shoulder and take you away by yourself. But I know you won’t go without him. Look, Hanna, like I’ve said, he must take his chances. We don’t have a choice.”
“Where will we go?”
He had evidently given much consideration to the plan. “We will have to take to the woods going north, and then turn west towards the Baltic. We must try for Prussia.”
“Prussia! That is hundreds of kilometers away.”
“Not that far. Perhaps a hundred or so.”
“But how will we take Jakob? Do you have a wagon?”
He shook his head. “I will carry him.”
“You cannot do that, Stephen.”
He looked her levelly in the eyes. “I have to. There is no other way.”
Hanna let her hands drop into her lap. Her whole world had crumbled, and it was continuing to worsen with the idea of heading for a country she knew nothing about. But Stephen was right. None of them stood a chance on any piece of land owned by the Tzar of Russia.
A moan from Jakob sent her over to him with the candle in her hand. His eyes were open, but filmed by pain.
“Jakob, can you hear me?”
He nodded his head and croaked out the word, “Yes.”
“Stephen is here. He brought supplies for us.” She turned towards Stephen. “Can I give him some water?”
“Yes. All he wants. Has the bleeding stopped?”
“Yes. He has not bled all day.”
Stephen came over to the side of the stricken man. He tugged gently at the rolled up shirt plugging the wound. It was crusted to the hole. “We’d better leave that alone.” He slowly lifted Jakob’s head and let a few drops of water pass into his mouth. Jakob sucked at them eagerly. Stephen gave him more, and then lowered him back to the floor.
“More, please,” croaked Jakob.
“In a few minutes,” said Stephen. “We have all the water you want. I will give you more shortly. Try to understand.”
“I understand.”
Stephen went to his bed roll and took out a bottle filled with a light colored liquid. Back at Jakob’s side, he measured out a portion into a teaspoon and poured it between his lips.
“What is it?” asked Hanna.
“Laudanum,” said Stephen, recorking the bottle. “It is opium mixed with alcohol. It should relieve some of his pain.”
“I know about it. I used to give it to Mama.”
The drug acted with unexpected speed, for by the time Stephen had the bottle put away, Jakob’s discomfort had eased enough for him to fall into what seemed to be a restful sleep. Stephen motioned for Hanna to step outside. A breeze was blowing, welcome after the dank odor of the shack, and the stars were distant and hazy in the bright moonlight.
She went directly into his arms. He held her gently, his lips caressing her hair and cheek. “Are you sure you are well, my dearest?” he asked.
She knew what he meant. “I’m all right now. There was some pain in my groin earlier, but it has passed away.”
He stood back to look into her face. “We will have to move on soon. Every hour here increases the danger.”
She nodded her head. “I know.” She tried to smile, but it was a wan effort. “I was thinking back to yesterday when our only concern was my being pregnant. Now it seems like such a small concern.”
“Yes, that’s true. I feel like the ground has been swept out from under my feet, too.” He kissed her forehead. “But today is today, and we have things to do.”
She finally smiled. “Papa would have loved you.”
He grinned down at her. “Why me?”
“You are his kind of man. You do not give up.”
“Neither do you.” He stepped back. “We should go now.”
“So soon?”
“I saw hundreds of soldiers crossing from Kaunas this morning. I think they will concentrate on searching for you towards the East, perhaps in Slabodka and Jonava. But it won’t be long before they send searchers in this direction. They may already have done so.”
Hanna was quiet for a few seconds. “Why such a massive search?”
“I’ve tried to explain to you that everyone thinks you are part of a major spy ring. Perhaps Hershel did belong to an important one. Anyhow, the general Jakob killed was a rather important fellow. He commanded a division on the south bank. His soldiers are looking for revenge.” He was immediately sorry he had mentioned the subject, for Hanna began trembling. He kissed her lips lightly. “Don’t worry, darling. We’ll manage. Let’s go now.”
Once Stephen had packed everything in the sleeping bag, he searched all corners of the shack to erase all evidence that someone had used the shelter. He slung the roll over his shoulder.
“I’ll carry that,” said Hanna.
“Later,” he replied. He lifted Jakob gently, keeping his arms apart to put as little stress as possible on the wound, and they started up a loading incline into the woods facing north. Silently they walked through the ravaged forest, Stephen occasionally turning sideways to pass between trees or bushes that might disturb the injured man.
After an hour of steady marching, Stephen stopped in a clearing and lowered Jakob to the earth. He leaned against a tree, sweat pouring down his face, his mouth open to gulp in air. He tried to grin as Hanna came up. Without a word, she slipped the bag off his back.
“I will carry it now,” she said with determination. “I promise to let you know when I get tired.” He nodded. “Did you have a chance to speak with Mr. Wilson?” she went on, heavily winded herself.
“No. But the children will be safe with him. The villagers were pretty much on your side, you know. Your family has built up a lot of respect over the years.”
“What you mean is that they are anti-Russian.”
He shrugged his shoulders, his breathing coming under control. “I guess so. But be fair, Hanna. We’ve tried and tried to make life comfortable for the people. They are pretty stiff-necked.”
“Like us Jews?” laughed Hanna.
He grinned back. “I don’t think any group could be that stiff-necked. It’s a new century. Russia has come a long way in the past one hundred years.
“I could argue that all night,” observed Hanna.
“I know.” He reached down for her hand. “Up you come, darling. We must keep moving.”
At dawn, all were fatigued, so Stephen led the way into a heavy clump of bushes. Once he laid out the bedroll, he placed Jakob atop it. Hanna dropped to the side of the injured man with a sigh of relief. She was at the end of her endurance. Stephen placed a blanket over the two, and then lay down next to Hanna. Holding her hand, he was asleep at once. Hanna joined him shortly after. Jakob lay awake suffering for another hour, hard pressed to figure out just what was happening. He had recited the Shema, his death prayer, more than once when he felt the cloud of coma pressing down on him, and here he was, still alive. He thanked the Lord for having brought them all safely to this point, and for having kept Hanna well. And as his eyes closed, he asked blessings upon them all, even Stephen, the enemy of the Jews.