“PETR,” I SAID AS WE MADE OUR WAY THROUGH THE WOODS TOWARD THE VILLAGE, “WHY AREN’T YOU IN THE ARMY?”
“I KNOW YOU WILL FIND THIS HARD TO BELIEVE,” HE answered with a half grin, “but I am too old.”
“What about Yeshka?”
“Too young.” We crested the last forest hill and stopped to catch our breath.
“You mentioned his dad….”
He laughed. “That answer is more interesting. He’s missing part of his trigger finger. Printing accident.”
“I’m so sorry.” Maybe I was being too inquisitive, but I wanted to understand who the partisans were.
“Why do you want to know these things?”
“Well … it’s all new to me, and … and how did you know I wasn’t a spy or something? You welcomed me so easily into your little group.”
He nodded as he scanned the open space we were about to enter. “Two reasons: Galina, and what you said when we met.”
“About?”
“You told me about the three partisans you met. If you were a spy or a traitor, you never would have mentioned them. Besides,” he added, bending over to brush the snow off the bottom of his pant legs, “we need every bit of help we can get. Now, pay attention. I want you to count to a hundred, then follow me. Knock only once; someone will answer the door.” He took his first long stride toward the town.
“Petr, wait, just one more question.”
He turned and looked at me as if to say This better be good.
“I have a knife, right here in my valenki. Do you think they’d punish me if they find it when I’m at headquarters?”
His expression was instantly serious. “Let me see it.” I slipped the slender hunting knife out of my boot and handed it to him. He held it in the palm of his hand horizontally and sort of bounced it, as if feeling its weight and balance. “I love these Finnish knives. Keep it. Don’t let anyone see it. Who knows? You may need it.” Before I could ask him why I might need a knife at headquarters, he was off, and I began to count to a hundred. I almost lost sight of him once I neared the town because he turned two corners so quickly.
A few blocks later, he entered a small house on a corner. Two minutes after that I went to the same house, knocked once, and waited. The door was opened by a sturdy-looking man with a bald head and ink-stained hands, wearing a leather apron. He had a broad smile on his face.
“Well done!” His congratulatory slap on my back was so strong, I stumbled a few feet forward. “I’m Josef. You know my son, Yeshka.” Yeshka stood next to a lamp, examining my letter closely with Petr.
“Ivan,” he greeted me with a smile. “This letter is incredible. How long can we keep it?”
“I have to be back at noon.”
He and his father exchanged a look. “Let’s get going,” Josef said with enthusiasm. It was only then that I noticed that the entire inside of their house was a workplace, with a small printing press in the main room. The sound of more machinery seeped in from an adjacent hall.
“Should I wait here?” I asked uncertainly.
Petr shook his head. “Too many of us in one place.”
“Come back at eleven thirty,” Josef said. “If we’re not finished, you’ll have to bring it back tomorrow.”
“What if I get stopped before then?” I asked Petr, feeling the full weight of the Nazi presence in a new way without my letter.
“Then you’re just like the rest of us,” Petr answered, moving toward the door.
I caught the looks on Josef’s and Yeshka’s faces: serious, angry, determined. “Axel Recht,” Josef said, and mimicked spitting on the floor. “Come on, son. Let’s create a few problems for Recht to deal with.”
He and Yeshka disappeared down the hall as Petr and I hovered near the front door, preparing to leave. “You go first this time, Ivan. I’ll follow in a few minutes. Go to Polina’s. Ask her to —”
“Petr … wait. You know the dogs I mentioned?”
“Yes?” He looked preoccupied as he peered out a window near the door.
“Well, I was thinking they could be of some use to the partisans.”
A little laugh escaped him. “What?”
“Yes. Axel’s going to start their training today. They’re going to be trained to hunt Russians.”
“Of course. What did you expect? The Germans are well known for training their dogs to do their dirty work for them.”
I stared down at the floor, trying to form my thoughts and feelings into some kind of clear picture. “I asked Axel if I could help the trainer. He said no.”
“Ivan, why are you worrying about dogs at a time like this?”
“Because they’re innocent!” It came out forcefully.
“Lower your voice,” Petr said with a frown.
“And they’re captives, too, just like us in Vilnov! He’s going to turn them into vicious hunters that will be used to hurt us. It … it would be sort of like capturing a weapon.”
He gave me his full attention now. “Capturing? Ivan — are you thinking of stealing his dogs?”
Maybe I only understood it at that moment, but it felt inevitable. “Yes, I am.”
Petr glanced around the room with a look of disbelief on his face, as if trying to find someone to share it with. “Let me see if I understand you correctly.” His voice oozed sarcasm. “You, a twelve-year-old boy, are going to smuggle something out of Nazi headquarters that belongs to the man in charge?” I opened my mouth to explain, but he continued. “And not just an item you could slip into your pocket. No. Two living creatures that could betray your plan with a mere whimper or bark at the wrong moment?” His voice grew louder. “Not even full-grown dogs, but puppies!”
“But, Petr —”
“And for what?” He sounded almost outraged.
“Listen to me,” I said calmly. “We could train them — I could train them. The partisans could use them just like other armies use dogs.” He exhaled impatiently. “They could deliver messages, and … and we could use them to guard safe houses like your house! You’d know in advance if anyone was near you.”
“So they would bark and let everyone know where the stolen dogs were?”
I felt so passionately that my idea was good, but of course I hadn’t had time to think it through. “I don’t know. What I do know is that we will hurt the Nazis if we steal them. They’ll have two fewer weapons with which to track down and kill our people. And we will have saved two innocent dogs from being turned into monsters.” Nothing changed in Petr’s stern expression, but I was almost sure I caught a light in his eye, as if the idea had taken hold and he was turning it over in his mind. But before I could continue trying to persuade him, Yeshka came into the room holding Axel’s letter in his hand.
“Oh, good. You’re still here. Petr, you speak a little German, don’t you?” he said.
“Very little.”
Yeshka held out the letter so that both of us could see it. “I can’t quite make out that word.” He pointed to something Axel had written. Petr squinted and peered at it.
“Well, it could be …” He turned to me. “Ivan, I’ve got something for you to do, something reasonable. Go to Polina’s. She’s got a Russian–German dictionary, I’m almost sure. Bring it back here.”
I nodded. “Anything else?”
“Yes. For now, do what Axel tells you to do. Get away as often as you can, and report what you learn to me. I’ll talk to some of the others in our group. We’ll try to figure out the best way to use you while you’re there. Don’t do anything I haven’t told you to do.” He eyed me meaningfully. “And have Polina show you some maps; familiarize yourself with the area. Start looking around you for places where you can hide. All over. At Galina’s and Polina’s, down by the tunnels, inside and outdoors. You want to have some places you can go if the Germans are ever chasing you.” That hadn’t occurred to me. “Didn’t you say you had an uncle nearby?”
“Southeast of Sviritsa.”
“That’s quite a distance. Make sure you know how to get there, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
He actually laughed, and then said, “This is war, Ivan. Anything can happen.”
“Petr,” Yeshka whispered, sounding like he could barely catch his breath. Both of us looked at him, then followed his gaze. Two Nazi soldiers were coming into view in the window on our left.
“Quick,” Petr hissed. “Give Ivan the letter back. Put it in your pocket, Ivan.”
I felt almost paralyzed, but I folded the paper and slipped it into the pocket of my coat. I glanced quickly at Petr and Yeshka. No one spoke, but I saw the looks of fear and resolve on their faces.
Without a knock, the front door suddenly burst open to reveal the pair of Nazi soldiers.
“Stay where you are!” one of them yelled in heavily accented Russian. We froze as the man drew his pistol. “Hands up! Move back.” We did exactly as we were told.