POLINA KNOCKED LIGHTLY ON MY BEDROOM WINDOW. I’D BEEN SITTING FULLY DRESSED ON THE BED WAITING FOR HER SIGNAL. WITH ONLY THE CREAKING OF THE WOODEN floor to betray me, I quickly left Galina’s house through the back door and joined Polina at the bottom of the stairs. We walked silently until we’d passed all the houses and were well into the forested area not far from where we’d been sledding the day before.

It was dark, although the light reflecting off the snow allowed us to find our way without any problem. After looking over her shoulder to make sure there was no one around, Polina said, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.”

“After you meet the others there’s no turning back.”

“Turning back to what, Polina? Our country has been invaded by barbarians. They want us all dead. Now that I have a chance to do something about that — however small — do you think I could refuse?”

She shrugged and nodded her head. She’d told me something similar the day before on our way back home after our chance meeting with Petr.

I felt no reluctance about joining the partisans, although there were two potential problems: Auntie and Uncle Boris. I didn’t want to keep my participation a secret from Auntie, but I wasn’t sure what she’d do when I told her. Because she’d shown me the secrets of her apartment, including the gun, along with her references to living through the revolution, I thought she might have been part of a similar group when she was young. That still didn’t mean she wouldn’t forbid me to join them. Uncle Boris … well, maybe that wasn’t a problem because I’d made a decision that I wasn’t going to go live with him no matter what. Somehow I would find a way to stay with Auntie in Vilnov.

“This way,” Polina said quietly as we neared the point where the creek turned and ran south. This was the area near where Petr had found us, but Polina kept going into a more deeply forested part where small hills and gullies slowed our progress. At the bottom of one such ravine, a house that was built halfway into the hillside revealed itself.

A thin stream of smoke floated out of a chimney, the only sign of habitation. Its two small front windows were caked with what looked like years’ worth of rain and mud splatter; brownish curtains hung behind them.

As we neared the front door, Polina said, “No, this way.” She led me around to the side of the structure where it had been built into the hillside, to a rough-hewn door hardly taller than us. She knocked just once.

“Yes?” a voice answered from inside the house. Polina knocked once again. It was apparently some kind of signal. Smart, I thought; no one knocks just once. A normal knock is three or four knocks. My attention was keenly focused this morning. I wanted to know all about these people and their secrets.

The door opened a crack. Petr peered out at us, then opened the door just wide enough for us to enter before he closed it behind us. The room was lit only by a small fire. Before my eyes adjusted, I sensed the presence of three or four other people standing against the front wall opposite the fire.

Now that I was at Petr’s, my heart was pounding. It wasn’t fear, exactly. Excitement? Yes, some. Perhaps the best comparison was to the way you feel when you dive into a cold lake. You wanted to be in the water, you dove willingly, but you knew that for a moment you were going to feel like you would die from the shock of the freezing water.

I closed my eyes to help them adjust more quickly to the dim space. When I opened them, I stared first at Petr, who knelt in front of the fire, poking among the embers. Harder to see were the people who leaned against the front wall; they were too far from the fire for me to see them at first. When two of them came into focus, I gasped.

“Auntie! Miss Galina! What are you doing here?”

“Not so loud,” Petr warned me without turning around.

They smiled at me like two people sharing a good joke. They must have known how shocking it would be for me to see them there.

“We’re doing the same as you,” Miss Galina said. “I knew Vera would want to be part of this. Polina surprised me when she said you wanted to join us as well.”

I was speechless.

“I like a good fight,” Auntie said with a sly smile. “Haven’t you noticed?”

“And who is that?”

Petr got up, turned toward us, and took charge. “All you need to know are first names. That is Yeshka.” A young man of perhaps fifteen or so nodded in a friendly way.

Two old women, a girl, a twelve-year-old, a teenager, and an older man who was as disheveled as a hermit. These were the partisans? How in the world was this group going to have any effect on such a cruel and efficient army? I sighed more loudly than I meant to and shook my head before I realized it.

“You don’t approve, Ivan?”

I felt embarrassed. “Oh, no. I didn’t mean to suggest … It’s just that I assumed that partisans were fighting men.”

“Most men of fighting age are in the army and at the front.”

“Of course,” I stammered. “I don’t, I don’t know….”

“Let me give you your first lesson in being a partisan. Never let people know what you’re thinking. Right now, you’re as easy to read as a book. Develop control over your facial expressions, and keep your mouth shut as much as possible.”

“Yes, sir.” I began right then by gazing blankly across the room, my eyes fixed on no certain spot. It made me feel sort of invisible, which may have been the deeper point of Petr’s remarks — make yourself invisible, listen, and learn as much as possible.

Polina coughed nervously, rubbed her nose, and sniffed. “And learn how not to fidget and make noises,” Petr added.

“Sorry,” Polina muttered, putting her hands at her sides.

“Let’s get started. Sit or stand as you wish.” I would have welcomed a chair, but as no one else moved, I remained standing. “Yeshka, tell us the latest.”

“I spent two nights with a small band of partisans north of Tikhvin. They were getting ready to go behind German lines.” I wanted to speak so badly, to question him about the journey, about how they survived outside in winter conditions, about whether he’d seen any Germans. But practicing my first lesson of the day, I kept my face neutral and my thoughts and questions to myself. “Everyone seems to think the Germans will push the front line farther north. Volkhov, Vilnov, and several other villages are probable targets. The men I spoke to said we should prepare ourselves for occupation. They thought the main group would set up headquarters in Volkhov. They also said the Germans always have some kind of headquarters in even the smallest villages.”

“Did they have a sense of when this would happen?”

“Yes, any day. The rumor is that the Germans are planning to take Leningrad by Christmas.”

“Let them try!” I cried, unable to help myself.

“If you don’t learn more self-control, you’re going to be of more help to the Germans than to us.”

“Yes, Petr.” I bowed my head, staring at my damp galoshes, intending to bite my own tongue if need be to keep my big mouth shut.

“Are everyone’s papers in order?” Everyone murmured yes, including Auntie and me. It was something my mother had insisted upon before I left: Auntie and I each carried our own papers. My birth certificate, health records, and a copy of my mother’s work identification papers from the Kirov factory were all safely tucked into my traveling bag. If I was supposed to have other papers, I didn’t know what they would be.

“All houses and yards comply with municipal law?”

Yes again from those who lived in Vilnov.

“Anything that would make your house stand out to a passerby?”

This time the answer was no, except for Galina, who said, “There are my chickens.”

“Ah, yes — the chickens. How many of your neighbors have chickens?”

“Since people began to leave the village, I’m the only one in my neighborhood.”

He flinched and was quiet for a moment. “It will make you a target once they’re here. They’ll take the chickens and whatever else they want.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But, Petr, I need those chickens. I sell all the eggs that aren’t eaten.”

“Why not offer them to the Germans? Then they’d leave you alone,” I suggested.

Petr looked at me like I was thick in the head. “Because you never draw attention to yourself.”

“Then why are we even talking about the chickens? You just said they will draw attention, so they have to go.”

Before Petr could say anything, Polina stepped forward. There was an intense expression in her dark eyes, and her voice sounded more like that of an adult when she spoke. “He’s right. We all want Galina to be able to keep her chickens because we like her, and we know she likes her chickens. But if we set emotion aside, they have to be gotten rid of.” Galina’s hand went up to her mouth, as if to cover her feelings.

Everyone was nodding their heads, but I said, “No. She has six chickens, right? Let her keep one, and give one to each of five families who live closest to her. That way it seems normal if everyone has one chicken. If the Germans want them, they’ll just take them, but because it’s only one chicken, no one will stand out. In the meantime, Miss Galina makes an agreement with these families. They will receive so many eggs a week that the hen lays for taking care of it. She gets the rest to sell, like always.”

“With the promise that they’ll give back the chicken when the Germans leave,” Polina chimed in.

“Yes,” I agreed, happy to have her on my side. “Isn’t that a better solution?”

Petr stared at me curiously. “Yes, it is. Galina, what do you think?”

Even across the room I could see her relief. “It answers all of the problems.”

“Assuming the Germans are defeated and there is an end to all this.” It was Polina again. She seemed to possess a confidence I’d rarely seen in girls my own age. Was this the same girl who just yesterday had so much fun sledding with me?

“That’s settled,” Petr said, looking satisfied. “Now, Ivan. Galina tells me you are leaving in a few days. If I’d known that —”

“No,” I interrupted him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I’m staying here, if Miss Galina will have me. If not, maybe one of you will let me stay with you.”

“Ivan, I promised your mother,” Auntie said.

My mind was made up. The minute I met Petr, I knew I was going to join the fight. “I will explain it to her. It’s not your fault. This is my country, and I’m going to fight for it.”

“You understand the danger?” Petr said. “The Germans don’t care if you’re a child. If they find out you’re a partisan, they’ll kill you all the same.”

“I understand.”

“You are welcome at my house,” Galina said. “I’m sorry about the confusion last night.”

“Then that’s settled, too,” Petr said. “If Yeshka’s information is correct, there’s not a lot of time. Galina, explain your duties to Vera. Decide how she can best help you. Yeshka — your orders are clear. Polina, show Ivan the book. Teach him as much as you can, as fast as you can. In the meantime, I’ll figure out where we can use him.”

Everyone nodded and prepared to leave. “Polina,” Petr added, “take Ivan through the tunnels before you go.”

“Come on,” Polina said, excitement in her voice. “This is amazing.” She led me into a bedroom to the right of the fireplace. It was an oddly shaped room because the cabin itself wasn’t square, and its rear portion was built into the low hillside, making it look like it conformed only to the whim of the builder. I imagined this provided warmth and insulation in the winter and coolness in the summer.

I watched carefully as Polina opened a closet door, although it was the shortest and most overstuffed closet I’d ever seen. It was hardly tall enough for me to stand up straight in. She pushed her way into the mess of shirts, coats, boots, fishing gear, hats, gloves, and assorted items of clothing on pegs that stuck out from the walls, until she’d cleared a small space on the left between the wall and the last item hanging.

“See this?” she asked, pointing to a knot about waist-high on one of the wooden panels. I nodded. “And this?” She pointed with her foot to a scarred section on the same panel about two and a half feet off the floor. “Press them both at the same time.” I watched as she used the heels of her hands to press the two spots. Nothing happened. “Sometimes it’s a little stiff, depending on the weather.” This time she pounded her hands against the spots. A narrow door opened a few inches. I couldn’t believe it. Polina opened the door farther, but the space past it was almost pitch-black.

“Okay, now feel on the left wall just inside the door.” I tried to reach around her, but my arm wasn’t long enough; we changed places. “Feel it?”

“It’s a box.”

“Yes, full of candles. Underneath it is a smaller box full of matches. Take one of each and light the candle.”

It was easy to find both items; I held one in each hand. “Where do I strike the match?”

“The front of each box is covered in rough metal. Strike it anywhere on either one.”

Feeling clumsy in the dark, I felt for the front of the candle box and ran the match across it. A flame burst forth, and I lit the tall taper candle in my other hand.

“Good. Now light one for me from your candle. It saves matches.”

Only once we both held candles, and Polina and I traded places so that she could lead, did I dare to look around me. We were in an arched tunnel about two feet taller than either of us and wide enough so that if I put my hands on my hips, my elbows were still an inch or two from either side. Every few feet there was a rough-cut log that went from floor to ceiling. Wedged in between them horizontally about every two and a half feet were shorter logs to support them; it made them look a lot like ladders. Running across the ceiling from side to side were not only more logs to support the roof of the tunnel, but bent branches that covered almost every inch of the arch, providing a secondary protection from cave-ins.

“What is this place?” I marveled.

“These are the escape tunnels. There are two of them. Watch your footing. We go forward ten feet, and then we go down five steps.”

I held my candle in front of me, fighting my dislike of closed spaces by focusing on Polina and what she was saying and trying to take in every detail of my surroundings.

“Here they come,” she said. “The steps are made of wood, so you don’t have to worry about them being soft or crumbling.” Her head sunk down as she said it, and I quickly searched for the first step so I wouldn’t tumble over on top of her.

“Who built this?” I asked as we descended the steep stairs.

“Petr. Sometimes I think he’s more mole than man.”

“It’s been just five months since we were invaded. He couldn’t have made it in that time!”

“No. He started years ago, when the Nazis marched into Poland.”

“But why?”

“He said he had a feeling that one day it would be Russia’s turn. He was right. Petr’s cottage is the safe house for our band of partisans. Ivan, what if the Germans had arrived this morning during our meeting — what would you have done?”

“Run, I suppose. Or waited till they checked our papers and seen what happened.”

“Well, good luck with that,” she said with a laugh. “While you were busy being polite to the invaders, I’d have been halfway through this tunnel on my way to freedom.” She stopped as we reached the bottom of the stairs, and I saw that we were in a sort of round area big enough for maybe three or four people. There were two tunnels that sprouted off from it.

“Unbelievable,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to whisper today,” Polina said, “although it’s probably a good habit to get into.”

“Where do these tunnels go?”

Pointing to the one on the left, she said, “That one goes west. You’ll come out by the other side of the gully that Petr’s house sits in. But you can’t be seen from the house. The other one takes you north. It’s the longest one, and you’ll be going in the direction of the village.”

“Let’s go left,” I said, still fighting a feeling of claustrophobia and wanting to breathe fresh air.

“Follow me.” I kept my eyes on Polina’s back as we entered the tunnel, and I remembered an old trick my mother had taught me. I pretended there was a bright blue sky above me with white fluffy clouds floating gently by. It’s amazing how powerful that image was, and how different my whole body felt just pretending I was in a ditch with blue sky above, rather than in a tunnel surrounded by earth. But it required a lot of focus and determination to keep it in my mind.

“Almost there,” Polina said a short while later. “See that post on the left, the one painted red? That tells you you’re about twenty feet from the exit, and to be on the alert for the door.”

“How do you know that no one’s watching on the other side?”

“You don’t. But you’ll see. Petr made it blend into the earth so well, it’s sometimes hard to find from the outside even when you’re looking for it.”

A few seconds later, Polina said, “Okay, I’m going to stop now. You stop, too. I want to show you something.” I did as she asked. “Look at that.” She pointed to the end of the tunnel, where red paint had been used to outline the door. “When you get to the door, stand close to it, grasp the handle, and then blow out your candle. See on the left? It’s a candle box and a matchbox, just like at the entrance. That way, if you come in this way you’ll have a candle, too.”

“Smart,” I said, still in awe of all the planning, intelligence, and sheer hard work that had gone into making the tunnels.

Polina blew out her candle. “Make sure it’s out before you put it back in the box,” she warned me. I hesitated to extinguish mine. “It’s okay. We’ll be outside soon.” I counted to three and blew it out, then felt for the candle box and put it on the pile of other candles. We stood in a blackness so complete, I reached out and touched Polina’s back to make sure she was still there.

“Always open the door as slowly as you can. There’s an evergreen in front of it that gives us protection. But still … if you’re in this tunnel, you’re probably running for your life, so be careful.” Seeing the first sliver of the deep blue dawn gave me relief beyond words; it reminded me of how comforting it was to have had the door open a crack in our closet at home when we waited out that first bombing raid.

“Slowly, slowly,” Polina said as she gently pushed the narrow door open just wide enough to slip through. I followed her out of the tunnel; air had never tasted so sweet. As she’d said, a tall evergreen blocked us from being seen by passersby, though not completely. “If someone is after you, it’s best to crawl out. Get under the tree if you have to, like I showed you the other day.”

“Okay.” I followed her about twenty feet from the tunnel entrance.

“Turn around. Can you see the door?” she asked.

I looked back, knowing the tree marked the spot, thinking it would be easy to find. All I saw was a sloping, crumbling end to a mound of earth that flowed naturally from the hillside. “You’d better show me.” We walked back together. The entire time I searched for the outline of the door and never found it.

Polina motioned toward the hillside. “Petr takes paper, mud, and leaves and molds them right into the earth, like a sculptor. Then he paints it or colors it until it looks completely natural. See this? It looks like a rock that’s sticking out of the side of the dirt. Pull it, and that will open the door; it’s the handle.” I eyed her skeptically, not sure I believed her. “Go on. Try it.”

I did as she said, and sure enough, the narrow door opened to reveal the darkness within. “Amazing.”

“Now, let me show you how to get back to the front of the cabin from here.” Polina ran through the snow, and I followed. “Wait till you see the book.”

“The one Petr mentioned?”

“Yes. I’ll show it to you when we get to my house. Everything you ever need to know in the whole wide world is in that book.”

“What’s it called?”

“You’ll see. First I have to show you the other tunnel.”

We entered through the side door to find that only Petr remained at his cottage; the others had gone. We went through the other tunnel, and I memorized the place it could be accessed from the outdoors. Again, Petr had so cleverly disguised the entrance that it was invisible at first glance, at least to a city boy like me. I hoped that if I ever needed to enter one of the tunnels from the outside I’d be able to find it again.

A little while later, as we walked back toward the village from near the stream, Polina said, “There’s a lot to teach you.”

“From the book, you mean?”

She nodded.

“What’s the name of the book?”

She hesitated before answering. “I guess I can tell you now. But you can never repeat it. It’s called The Deadly Partisan.”