IN THE SOLITUDEof Genya's transformed bedroom, Danylo had a jumble of thoughts running through his mind. What person nowadays could understand the kind of choices he had to make in his youth? Movies and television liked to make war seem like a battle between right and wrong, good and bad. But what if both sides were bad? Stalin on one side, and Hitler on the other? What choices did you have then? If he could live that time all over again, his choices would still be the same. The pity was that people now couldn't understand how his was the only noble choice.
Thoughts of the past were quickly washed aside with practical considerations of the current situation. How was he going to afford a lawyer? A trial? He didn't want his daughter and son-in-law to go bankrupt all because of him. Why had the RCMP targeted him after all these years?
Danylo thought of his home a few blocks away. He thought of all the memories it held. He had never been much further than Toronto since he came to Canada. When he and his wife first came, they had lived in a rooming house around Spadina and Queen, and after saving their pennies and dollars for years, they had bought their first home with a garden in the back and a verandah in the front. That home had been on Bathurst Street, and they had lived there for decades. When they finally moved to Mississauga, it was to be closer to Orysia and Walt and the girls. The quaint tree-lined street had been his refuge, his home, for almost twenty years now. When his wife died, he couldn't bear being there on his own with all the memories. Perhaps he should sell it. But even so, how much money would it fetch? Surely not enough to pay for his court case? And if he did sell it, where would he live? He couldn't possibly camp out in Genya's room forever. That would hardly be fair to her.
Danylo walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. Beneath the yellowed envelope was Nadiya's plain wooden jewellery box nestled amidst his socks and underwear. He opened it. Inside was a simple gold Orthodox crucifix on a fine chain that he had given her on their tenth anniversary. There was also a homemade brooch that Orysia had made when she was a child and Nadiya had worn with pride all these years since. A few other homemade mementoes, but nothing in the box of monetary value. Danylo lifted the top tray out to see if there was anything secreted below. Nothing but a small container of prescription medication. These were morphine tablets. His wife would take them when the pain from her cancer became too overwhelming. She didn't like to take them very often because she considered it a moral failing to give in to her pain, and so she had hidden them here so that she wouldn't resort to them easily. Danylo held the pill bottle up to the light and counted how many tablets it contained. More than a dozen. Enough to stop his pain. Should he take them now and save his family all this pain?
He opened the container and shook the pills out into his palm. It would be so easy to take these now, and forget everything. His family would be spared the burden of his court costs. What did he have to live for, after all? But then he looked at his wife's golden crucifix. How could he kill himself? That would be a sin.
The image of Kataryna filled his mind. There were unanswered questions in her eyes. When she had looked at him, their eyes met, and she held his gaze. It was as if she were trying to look into his very soul. To find the truth.
If I kill myself, considered Danylo, my zolota zhabka can only assume that I've done something bad. He stared at the pills in the palm of his hand with longing. I can't do it. This burden has been given to me, and I must live it. He put the pills back into their container and snapped the cap back on.
Kat was still sitting, staring at the empty chair when Genya walked in.
"What's up, little sister?" Genya asked, setting her school-books down on the kitchen table and regarding Kat with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Kat looked up at her older sister. "I have something to show you." And with that, she led Genya to her parents' bedroom and pointed to the correspondence fanned out on the bed.
Genya walked reluctantly over to the bed and picked up the top sheet. "We really shouldn't be in here," she said. "This must be private if they've left it in here."
"It's not exactly hidden," said Kat. "Besides, this concerns us all."
Genya read the top sheet, and when she was done, it fluttered from her hand like a dead bird. "I don't get it," she said.
"Neither do I," said Kat. "I think it's time for a family meeting."
That evening, after dinner was cleared away, Danylo, Walt, Genya and Kat sat back down at the kitchen table. Orysia got the stack of papers from the master bedroom and brought them for all to see.
"You girls have a right to know what's happening," began Walt.
Kat noticed that her father seemed worn down. There was an extra line of worry on his forehead that hadn't been there a month ago, and pockets of shadow were beginning to form under his eyes.
"The problem is," continued Orysia. "That we're not quite sure what's happening yet ourselves. That's why we hadn't told you about this sooner."
"There is a misunderstanding," said Walt. "The government thinks your grandfather committed Nazi crimes during World War II."
Kat frowned.
Genya was silent.
Danylo bowed his head.
Walt flipped through the papers on the table. "We're trying to make sense of this," he said. "We've got to hire a lawyer quickly and get to the bottom of it. When we find out more, we'll tell you, okay?"