AS WE NEARED OUR FARMHOUSE, DIMITRI TALKED AS EXCITEDLY AS A CHILD ON CHRISTMAS EVE. “I SAW A BULLDOG IN THERE, I’M PRETTY SURE,” HE SAID, talking about the dogs in the truck. “He looked a lot like Mr. Churchill — we’ll call him Winston.” He sped up to go around a hay cart. “I want to get those dogs out of their cages as soon as possible; they need water. Irina, why don’t you come with me to the kennel? You can start your story there.”
They looked at each other with “mischief in their eyes,” as my grandmother used to say. Irina turned to look out the window, trying to hide her smile.
“I can drive you back later,” Dimitri continued. “You wouldn’t want those poor dogs to suffer, would you?”
“What’s that?” Rina asked, as Dimitri pulled off the main road and onto the access road to our farmhouse.
“It’s an army transport,” Dimitri answered in a tone so serious it frightened me. Parked directly in front of our house was a heavy-looking gray truck with a red star painted on its side and back. It looked bulletproof, and as though it had withstood the barrage of many bullets.
There was no one in the driver’s seat, but I counted five men walking around the house as if looking for someone. We parked twenty feet in back of it; I turned to make sure Nikolai was right behind us.
“Let me do the talking,” Dimitri said, in the same scary monotone. The three of us got out of the jeep and followed him. The soldiers, all in uniform, began quickly walking toward us. I heard my mother, Nikolai, and Katia running up from behind.
The soldier who seemed to be in charge spoke. “We are looking for the Tarkov family.”
“That’s us. I am Mrs. Tarkov,” my mother said before Dimitri could say anything. I heard the fear in her voice.
“Okay, men,” he said. We all stood as if nailed to the ground as the men headed to the truck.
“What is this about?” Dimitri asked forcefully. “What do you want with the Tarkovs?”
The man didn’t answer. He went to the back of the truck, which was remarkably similar to the one used by the dog thieves. His men followed him, silent and stone-faced. He paused before he opened the door, turned to my mother, and said, “We have a delivery for you.”
He opened the doors quickly. It took me a moment to grasp what I was seeing. On each side of the truck was a bed, and on each bed lay a man. Both men were heavily bandaged.
“Constantin!” my mother cried. The bandaged figure on the right stirred. The soldier who’d opened the door now stood smiling as if this kind of surprise made him supremely happy.
“Just give us a little room, and we’ll bring him out,” he said. The other four soldiers entered the truck and unfastened the stretcher that lay on the bed so that the patient could be easily moved. The lead soldier folded down steps from the back bumper of the truck. We all backed up and made room for them.
Carefully, slowly, they moved the man I hoped was my father out of the truck. Once they were on the ground, we crowded around him.
“Papa, is it really you?” I said. His head was completely bandaged, covering his hair and wrapped twice around his chin. His right arm and left leg were both in plaster casts.
“Yes, Mikhail.” To hear his voice after four years made me feel like a new person. It was all I could do not to hurl myself onto the stretcher and cover him with kisses.
My mother was at his side, holding his left hand, tears pouring from her eyes, saying, “Constantin, Constantin,” between gasps of crying and laughing.
“Papa, it’s me, Nikolai,” my brother said. “Look how I’ve grown. I’ll bet you don’t recognize me.”
Rina clung shyly to my mother. She had just turned five the last time she saw her father.
“Who is this beautiful girl?” he asked, smiling at her.
“Sergeant,” said one of the men holding the stretcher, “where do you want him?” I’d barely noticed what a strain it must have been for them to stand there supporting a grown man.
“Oh,” my mother said, as if she’d just realized it, too. “This way. Up the stairs.” As they walked with their heavy load to the front of the house, I noticed Dimitri, Irina, and Katia driving away quickly — he in the truck, Irina and Katia in the jeep. I was disappointed to see them go without meeting my father, but could only conclude they wanted to give us privacy for our reunion.