DUSK WAS FALLING; BY FOUR P.M. IT WOULD BE DARK. AUNTIE SPOKE TO EVERY PERSON IN CHARGE, BUT NONE OF THEM HAD AN ANSWER ABOUT HOW WE WERE TO GET TO Vilnov, about twenty miles away. The other travelers had disappeared. One group was driven away in an army transport; they must have had influential relatives. Others were met by friends or family. A few simply walked down the road.
“What are we going to do, Auntie?” I was so tired and hungry, I had little energy left. “Do you think they’d let us sleep here?”
She didn’t answer right away. “I’m sorry, Ivan. Your mother and I didn’t know what to expect on this side of the lake, but we thought surely there would be something in place to help us.” We looked around the room, empty now except for two drivers talking quietly in the corner. Supplies and gasoline were being loaded into the trucks we’d arrived in so that they would be full when they crossed the ice road in the morning on their way back to Leningrad. I stood up and walked toward the front door, forcing myself not to think about my friends and family who were still there.
“I’m going to get some air, Auntie.”
I walked down the front steps and stood in the empty road. Clouds covered much of the sky, but here and there a deep bluish-purple color peeked through. It would have been an inspiring sight if I didn’t feel so uncertain about every minute of my future. As I stared at the western sky, I heard something I couldn’t place at first, something I hadn’t heard all winter — sleigh bells. They came from behind me, and I quickly turned to see a horse-drawn sleigh in the distance, coming from the north down the narrow lane that ran in front of the lake house.
The driver looked about Auntie’s age. He had a full gray beard and wore a sheepskin cap with flaps over his ears, making his head look exceptionally large. He was smiling and called out to me, “Hello! Hello!” as the sleigh drew nearer.
I stepped back onto the porch of the lake house and out of their way as he cried, “Whoa!” The dark horse had a streak of white down her nose, and lifted her head and looked at me as if in greeting as she stopped.
“Hello, young man,” the driver greeted me in a booming voice. “You must be from Leningrad!”
“Yes, sir, but how did you know?”
“Look around you!” he said good-naturedly. “Everyone has been waiting for the lake to freeze over for weeks now. It’s all we talk about.” He stood up and craned his neck to look behind me. “Where are … the others?”
“What others, sir?” All I wanted was to pet his horse, but I tried to focus on the stranger.
“Your fellow travelers. Where are they?”
“They’ve all gone, sir. All but Auntie and me.”
He looked crestfallen and sat down wearily on the front bench of the sleigh. “I meant to come earlier, but Nesa needed grooming,” he said, motioning toward his horse. “Well, I’m here now, ready and able.”
“I’m sorry, sir — ready and able for what?” I inched nearer to his horse.
“I thought I could help people get where they’re going. I mean, I would have to charge a small something, but I wanted to do my part.”
The front door behind me creaked, and out came Auntie. “Good evening,” she greeted the man. “I am Vera Raskova, and this is Ivan.”
“Yes, I’m just making his acquaintance!” He certainly was the jolliest person I’d seen in months, smiling for no reason, looking happy just to be alive.
“What a beautiful horse and sleigh.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I thought I could be of some use here today, but I’m late, as always.”
“I think you’re just on time,” Auntie said with a smile. “Ivan and I are going to Vilnov. We have no way of getting there. Would you allow us to hire you and your fine horse to take us there?”
The man frowned slightly and rubbed his forehead. “Vilnov. That’s quite a ways from here. I’d like to help, but it’s a good twenty miles.”
“I know it will be dark soon,” Auntie said, “and we wouldn’t want to impose, but it would be a great help to us. What would you consider a reasonable cost for such a ride?”
“Ten rubles?” he answered, as if asking a question.
“I’ll offer you twenty rubles to take us to Vilnov. Make it twenty-five.”
“Really?” he said, looking at her carefully. “Twenty-five rubles?” He laughed. “Where is your baggage? Let me help you!” We quickly loaded our two bags into his sleigh and climbed in after them, but only after he let me pet Nesa. It was exciting and a little frightening to touch so large and powerful an animal. She stood proudly and let me stroke her head and shoulders. She smelled of earth and hay and sweat. It was one of the nicest things I’d smelled in a long time.
“I am Vladimir, by the way,” he said as he turned the sleigh around. “Now, there is no shortcut to Vilnov, but there is a more beautiful road and a less beautiful road. Which one would you like to take?”
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled at us as we tucked ourselves in on the back bench under three warm blankets. We answered, “The beautiful one!” in unison.
“Excellent! Come on, Nesa, time to go.” He flicked the reins lightly, and Nesa trotted down the road; soon we turned and were heading east. The bluish twilight enveloped us as it grew darker. The snow emitted a ghostly light; it surprised me that I felt no fear of being out in the country as night fell. The farther we got from the water, the clearer the sky. I leaned back and watched as the first stars appeared.
The road cut through a small forest of birch trees. We emerged into an area I assumed was farmland because vast stretches of it were cleared, except for clusters of pines and other trees near what appeared to be farmhouses. Vladimir and Auntie shared stories of how difficult life had been since the war started and the different effects on people in the city and country.
“My wife packed some bread and cheese for me,” Vladimir said, reaching under his seat and handing Auntie a metal lunch box with a rounded top and a handle. “Help yourselves. There’s a little jug of tea in there, too.”
“Are you sure?” Auntie asked. “You’ll have a long journey home.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Besides, my wife will have something warm waiting for me.”
Auntie opened the lunch pail and revealed an enormous hunk of bread and a square of white cheese as big as my fist. We eyed each other in amazement: It was real food! She pulled the bread into three pieces, kept the smallest one for herself, and gave me the largest. The same with the cheese, although that was harder because it was kind of crumbly.
I held the cheese in my right hand and the bread in my left as Auntie poured the tea into a small metal cup. “Don’t burn your mouth,” she whispered with a smile. Auntie held the cup while I sipped it slowly, feeling first the cold metal cup against my lips and then the hot, strong tea. It felt as comforting as a hug.
“You take some, too, Auntie.”
When she was sure I’d had enough, she took a small sip.
“Heaven,” she declared. “Now eat your food.”
The bread was real bread, the kind we used to be able to buy before the German invasion. It bore little resemblance to the rationed mess of sawdust, flour, and who knows what else that we’d existed on for months. My body recognized what it had been missing immediately in a sort of blink of pleasure.
“Thank you, Vladimir,” I said as soon as I’d swallowed. “This is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”
“I wish I’d thought to bring more. Miss Vera, perhaps once you’re settled, you and Ivan would consider visiting my wife and me. You can tell us the news of what’s been happening in Leningrad.”
Auntie glanced at me; I saw the same look of pleasure in her eyes that I knew was in mine. “I think we’d like that very much.”
I opened my mouth to tell him how much I’d enjoy a visit when I remembered. “I’m only staying with Auntie for a night or two. I’m supposed to go up to my uncle’s house. It’s southeast of Sviritsa, but past Syasstroy. In the country.”
“Sviritsa,” he repeated. “You have quite a journey yet to make, and it’s in another direction. How are you getting there?”
“I don’t know,” I said glumly, having no interest in being separated from Auntie, or in seeing my uncle Boris again. Vladimir nodded and said nothing.
“It looks untouched out here,” Auntie said.
“Oh, we’ve been touched, all right. The Germans bombed the boats on the lake all summer in case any of them was on its way to Leningrad. They kept it up for months.”
“We thought they were going to bomb us on the lake today!” I exclaimed as I held the cup for more tea.
Vladimir shook his head. “Did they hit anything?”
“No. It was only one plane, and it just flew over.”
As he turned around to speak to us, I saw a movement on the right side of the road. Before any of us could speak, three young men rushed up to the horse and grabbed her bridle. As soon as Vladimir realized what was going on, he cried, “Whoa!” and pulled Nesa to a quick halt.
The three men walked slowly up to the front of the sleigh, examining us all closely. One walked around the sleigh and stopped very near me.
“Good evening,” the tallest one said. They were thin but tough-looking, their clothes not much better than what you’d see on a poor man in Leningrad.
“Good evening, comrades,” Vladimir answered calmly. “How may I help you?”
“We’ve been walking a long way,” the man answered, then paused. “We’re on our way to Tikhvin.”
Vladimir nodded and said, “Ahhh,” almost inaudibly, as if confirming something in his own mind. “And what can we do for you?” I was watching the man nearest me. The man caught me staring at him and winked his eye. I turned away, confused and nervous.
“If you had some food you could share with us, we would be grateful.”
Turning around and motioning toward us, Vladimir said, “My friends here have just arrived from Leningrad. You know how bad things are there. I shared my supper with them. I’m afraid I don’t have anything to offer.”
I expected an angry or hostile response, but it was a flicker of disappointment that crossed the man’s face.
“Excuse me, Vladimir,” Auntie said, pulling the blankets off of her lap. “I saved a portion of the food for you. I couldn’t let you travel home without anything to eat.”
“You did!” He sounded surprised and almost mad at the same time. “That was for you and Ivan. I can wait till I get home.”
She stood up and held out the bread and cheese. “I think it was a fortunate decision. Perhaps our friends would accept this small offering.” Suddenly, they didn’t look so tough, more like hungry adolescents.
“Thank you,” the tall man said as the man nearest Auntie stretched his hands out to receive the food.
“There’s even a little tea left, if Vladimir doesn’t mind.”
“Please,” the driver said, “take it and warm yourselves.” Auntie emptied the last of the tea into the cup and passed it to the man next to me.
“Thank you,” he said with a smile.
I was no longer frightened, but I knew something was going on among the adults. It was like they were giving one another signals I couldn’t understand. The man who accepted the tea drank some, brought it to their leader, who took a few sips and exhaled happily, then gave the last of it to the man who had taken the food from Auntie.
“Where are you headed?” the leader asked Vladimir.
“Outside of Volkhov. Not too much farther, but a nice country drive.”
“I don’t think your horse could carry the load of three more men.”
What in the world is he talking about? I wondered. Vladimir never offered them a ride.
“Not if you climbed in the sleigh,” he answered with a laugh, “but if you had skis you could hold on to the back and we could pull you.”
The leader nodded slowly. “We have skis. We also have some other things we need to bring with us.”
“Why not?” Vladimir asked with a shrug. “We have blankets.”
I hadn’t said a word since the men appeared, but I wanted to stand up and shout What are you talking about? But as Auntie had taught me, sometimes the best course is to watch, listen, and learn. I held my tongue.
“All right, then,” the leader said with a smile. “We’ll be back in a moment.” The three of them ran to the side of the road they’d come from and disappeared into a thicket of trees.
I thought Vladimir might snap Nesa’s reins and yell for her to run as fast as she could. Instead, he turned to speak to Auntie. “Thank you. It won’t be for long. They’ll drop off before we get too near the town.”
“It’s fine,” Auntie said as she took one of the blankets off our laps.
Within a minute they were running through the twilight toward us with their arms full, each one with a short pair of skis under his arm. Vladimir looked around us as though to see if anyone was watching. The young men dropped the skis behind the sleigh and brought their other items to the front. They consisted of three sleeping bags and three rifles.
My eyes grew wide as I finally understood. These men were partisans, the name given to the men, women, and even children who fought the enemy secretly. All I knew was what I’d heard from an old man in our building in Leningrad. He’d been a partisan during the civil war, hiding in the forest, shooting the enemy, stealing their food, blowing up train tracks, stopping communications, wearing them down, and disappearing back into the forest. Until now I’d never been sure if there were such things as partisans or if he’d made it up to make his wartime experience seem more interesting.
The leader handed the rifles to Vladimir, who quickly passed them to Auntie. She laid them down on the floor of our sleigh and covered them with a blanket. It felt like electricity was coursing through my body as I looked over at Auntie. She studied my face and said softly, “It’s a little like the day I showed you the secrets of my apartment.” I nodded mutely.
The men slipped on what looked like handmade skis and positioned themselves in back of the sleigh. “Ready?” Vladimir called.
“Ready,” they responded. In a second, Nesa was trotting down the road with three guerrilla fighters in tow.
They held on for about five miles, then one of them said, “Comrade, this is far enough.” I had to tap Vladimir on the back and repeat it because apparently he hadn’t heard it. The partisans had been paying attention, because the forest we’d been riding through was thinning and a stretch of farmland was opening before us.
They retrieved their sleeping bags and rifles and removed their skis. “I’m sorry I don’t have more to give you,” Vladimir said.
“Oh!” Auntie exclaimed. “I have something for you.” She reached down, opened her suitcase, and pulled out two cans of beans, some of the reserve she’d kept under the floorboards in her apartment. She held them up triumphantly.
“Thank you, good mother,” the leader said. “It’s not easy finding enough food on the road.” He took them and thanked her again.
“May God go with you,” she said.
“If God would give us bulletproof jackets, we’d be more than happy to have Him with us.”
Vladimir laughed. “Thank you, boys. Kill them all.” He slapped the reins and off we went. I turned back to watch as they disappeared into the forest.
I sighed as I turned around, shaking my head and saying to Auntie, “That was amazing.”
“What was amazing?”
“What just happened, those men —”
“What men?”
I stared at her, perplexed. She leaned near to me and said, “Nothing happened, do you understand? There were no men. No matter who asks you, no matter how insistent they are, you never ever admit to having anything to do with a partisan.”
There, she’d said the word; I was right. They were partisans, the ghost soldiers.
“Why not?”
“Because,” Vladimir began, startling us both, “the more people who know, the more vulnerable everyone is. If the Germans think the whole village knows the whereabouts of the partisans, then the entire village will be tortured or killed until someone gives them the information they want.”
“If no one knows anything,” Auntie continued for him, “no one can say anything.”
“Wouldn’t the Germans torture them anyway — just in case?”
Vladimir was shaking his big head back and forth. “They can and they do.” His voice was gruff and angry.
“The less you know, the safer you are,” Auntie added. “Forget everything you saw or heard tonight.”
“Yes, Auntie,” I said, but I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I would remember every word, every detail.