“GET UP! GET UP!” THE OVERHEAD LIGHT SEARED MY EYES. I COULDN’T SEE THE PERSON WHO HOVERED OVER ME, BUT I KNEW IT WAS AXEL. MEMORIES OF THE PREVIOUS DAY LIT up my tired brain just as I felt the movement of puppies against my chest and heard their faint moans of waking.
“Where are my dogs?” he demanded. “They’re gone! Where are my dogs?”
I sat up, pulling the blanket back to reveal Thor and Zasha. “They’re right here, sir.”
I could see his face now, the anger changing to relief, then to something I couldn’t quite read. He bent down and picked up Thor.
“You will not sleep in the same bed with my dogs again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. I set up their beds for them, but they wanted —”
“I don’t want to hear your idiotic excuses. I won’t have them sleeping with a Russian. Their job will be to hunt Russians when they’re older. I can’t have them confused.”
Zasha was licking my hand. I quickly turned her around and pushed her gently toward her water bowl. Rage sparked in me at the idea of their being trained to hunt my fellow countrymen, but I tried to ignore it as I said, “You’re right. I shouldn’t have let them sleep with me.”
“Of course I’m right. You are not their master — I am. Get the other dog and follow me.” Zasha was a little skittish and tried to run under the desk, but soon I had her in my arms.
“I’m thinking of changing their names,” Axel informed me as I ran to catch up with him. “Hansel and Gretel sound more German, don’t you think? And more amusing.”
“Of course that’s up to you, sir,” I said diplomatically, thinking not only what an awful idea it was but of his terrible temper. “Although dogs do learn their names very quickly. Changing them now might confuse them. It could slow down their ability to learn.”
He didn’t respond, but I could see his body stiffen. “I’ll make the decision before the day is over. Do not refer to them by their names until then.”
“Yes, sir.”
We entered the cafeteria, which was already bustling with preparations for the morning meal. “Fritzi!” Axel called out to the cook. He held Thor high, smiling proudly. Fritzi looked up and stopped stirring what looked like a huge pot of oatmeal; a smile spread across his face. Soon Fritzi and the other cooks had gathered around Axel. They laughed and talked and reached out to pet Thor, while Zasha sat at Axel’s feet.
I couldn’t understand what they were saying, although the names Thor and Hansel and Zasha and Gretel were repeated several times. Finally, Axel shrugged and placed Thor down. Then he said to me, “The consensus is that Thor and Zasha are stronger names.” It seemed so obvious. Even I knew that Thor was the name for the Norse god of thunder. It was the perfect name for the lively, bold puppy. And Zasha was a Russian name, one of the nicknames for Alexandra.
I couldn’t help but hope that every time Axel uttered her beautiful Russian name it would taste bitter in his mouth.
Fritzi put down bowls of chopped meat and oatmeal in the corner for the puppies. They ate quickly and looked up at Fritzi expectantly when they were done.
“Oh, no, no more,” Axel said, “or you’ll both be looking like fat Russian peasants.” He scooped up Thor. “Get Zasha. Follow me.”
We went back to the storeroom. “Get your concertina. We’ll leave the dogs in here for now,” he said, closing the door to the windowless room without saying good-bye.
“Are we … Are you just going to leave them there alone?”
“Are you questioning me again, Ivan?” He strode down the hall toward the stairs; I rushed to follow.
“No, sir, it’s just that I was thinking …” I hesitated because, in truth, the idea was still forming in my brain somewhere. Several seconds went by.
“Apparently you’re not actually thinking,” he said as he reached the stairs.
Then it hit me. I knew. “I was thinking that I could train the dogs, sir. Back in Leningrad I was well known for being the best dog trainer in our apartment building.”
“In your entire apartment building? Imagine that,” he said sarcastically, jogging up the staircase.
It was a lie. I’d taught Olga’s dog, Oskar, a few tricks and watched occasionally as Georgi trained Leonid, but I knew I could figure it out.
“As much as I’d like to take advantage of your gift, what I’m sure is your genius, I have made other arrangements for their training. We start this morning.”
“Maybe I could help that person,” I said as we reached the first floor. Something in me knew that I had to be with those dogs to protect them.
“I can’t imagine he’ll have any need of your help. Now, quiet.”
Ten minutes later I watched Axel shave in a large, tiled lavatory, standing shirtless in front of one of the mirrors. I played the concertina for him near the door. He said he liked the way the sound reverberated and echoed in the room. I’d never seen a grown man shave, and I watched with interest as he foamed the soap in a cup with a brush, spread it carefully, and expertly removed the hair with a straight razor. But the thought of learning about shaving from a Nazi filled me with anger, not just for myself, but for all the Russian boys who had lost their fathers at the hands of the army that surrounded me.
Many men came in and out to prepare themselves for the day. Every one of them acknowledged through the tone of his voice or the way he moved his body that Axel was the man in charge. When they spotted me, they spoke to Axel, probably asking who I was. I could tell they were pleased with having music; some even nodded to me in greeting with smiles.
When he was done, I followed Axel back to the cafeteria where breakfast was being served. He went directly to the head of the line. There seemed to be endless pots of food filled with things we hadn’t seen in Leningrad in months. I envied and hated our enemy all at the same time.
He glanced around the room and pointed to a place near the wall. “Go over there. Play for everyone while I eat. Fritzi will give you breakfast afterward.”
“Yes, sir.” Then I took a deep breath to gather my courage and said, “I keep thinking about the dogs. I’d be more than happy to stay with them during their first training session. It would be no problem. I —”
He closed his eyes, as if his anger was building. “Not only do I not want you with us, you will leave this building when you have finished playing. You will not return until noon when their training session is over. Do you understand me?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but knew if I uttered another word about the dogs there would be trouble. I nodded.
I positioned myself where Axel had told me to stand and began to play “My Sunflower,” the song Alik and Misha and I had been working on the day of the first heavy bombing. It helped me put the dogs out of my mind temporarily and focus on the necessity of memorizing everything around me so I could tell Petr: the number of men, what their uniforms looked like. There was hardly a wounded man in the room. Most looked healthy and confident. They chatted happily and laughed often. Doesn’t one of you have a pang of guilt about invading our country? I wondered. Do you know about the siege of Leningrad, of what your fellow soldiers are doing right now to us, as you feed your faces and look so satisfied?
“Ivan!” It was Axel. “Softer.” I nodded, only then realizing my anger and tension had been expressed in my playing.
Forty minutes later, when the room was almost empty and Axel had dismissed me, I packed up my concertina and asked Fritzi if I could have something to eat. He fed me well and asked about the dogs. I told him that Axel was going to start their training that morning.
“Good!” Fritzi exclaimed. “Good dogs for guarding. Everything they find.” He smiled at me like we should both be happy for their glorious futures. It was the guarding and finding I worried about. I felt certain that to make the dogs capable of such things they would have to be exposed to cruelty themselves. You don’t create a vicious guard dog, one taught to hunt human beings, by gentle coaxing. You create it through fear and brutality.
My distress must have been written all over my face. Fritzi said, “You sick, Ivan?”
“No, I’m fine. Just thinking. Thank you, Fritzi,” I said, holding up the rolls he’d wrapped in butcher paper for me to take with me.
Once I was out of sight of the soldiers guarding headquarters, I ran all the way to Galina’s. Auntie and Galina were out near the chicken coop searching for eggs. They both gasped when they saw me.
“Ivan,” Auntie whispered, “come in the house.” We hurried into the kitchen, where I’d barely set down my things before the two of them began hugging me and fussing over me. They both had tears in their eyes.
Auntie shook her head as she gazed at me. “After you left I worried I would never see you again. How could I ever have explained it to your mother?” She closed her eyes.
“Sit down. I’ll get you breakfast,” Galina added.
“I’ve already eaten.” I held up the parcel of food. “And look — soft rolls!”
“How do you know they’re not poisoned?” Galina asked, frowning.
“I don’t. But Axel told me to be back by noon, so I don’t think they’ll kill me just yet. He seems to be in charge of everything here. What’s happened since I left yesterday?”
“We went to see Petr early this morning to tell him they’d taken you.”
“What did he say?”
“He said if they let you go, or if we found out anything about you, to go see him immediately.”
“All right. But what happened here, in the town? Did any of the Germans come to tell us what we can do and what we can’t do?”
“No. Galina has heard they sometimes go through the neighborhood with a loudspeaker, telling everyone to report to their headquarters.”
“Other times they come to the door. They look at everything you have and take what they want.” Galina shrugged, her eyes wide. “It’s only what I’ve heard; I don’t really know. We should be prepared for anything.”
“I’m going to go see Petr now. He’ll figure out something important for me to do while I’m there,” I said, pushing myself away from the table. “I have to be back there in just a few hours, and I can’t be late.” I ran out the back, never having taken off my coat, and barely saying good-bye.