: The Russian Bible
Beth felt a person on each side of her take an arm. Then her escorts began running, leading her somewhere. She didn’t know she could run so fast in the dark. It felt as if angels were carrying her.
Tweet! Tweet! Tweet! The whistle blew in spurts. The police officer shouted in-between whistle blows.
Then other angry voices joined in. Are there more police officers now? she wondered. How many Christians will be caught?
Her escorts stopped running at the back door of a house with a wide porch.
One man reached around her and opened the door. The hinges creaked. She was inside. More footsteps pounded on the wood porch behind her.
Beth stood still and listened to her escorts move around inside. Several more people came inside the house.
Her breathing was raspy from running. Her heart thumped wildly.
“Beth,” she heard Patrick say. “Are you here?”
“Yes,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” Patrick said.
Soon a woman led the cousins down a narrow staircase. The woman pushed a flashlight into Beth’s hand.
The woman said something in Russian. Then Beth heard the woman’s footsteps going back up the stairs.
Beth turned on the flashlight and looked around. The floor was dirt. The walls were wood panels. She guessed she and Patrick were in some kind of secret compartment.
She shined the flashlight on Patrick. He still had the Bible from Pastor Lars. Then she shined the light around the room. A stack of blankets was on the floor near a wall.
Patrick set the Bible down and handed a plaid blanket to Beth. Then he plopped down on the pile of blankets.
Beth sat down next to him, snuggled into the wool blanket, and leaned against the wall.
“Hey,” Patrick said, “here’s a tin container. It’s full of cookies.”
“God will provide,” she whispered to Patrick. “Luke 10:4.”
“Yes,” he said, chewing a cookie. “Shortbread.”
Beth reached for the tin and picked up a cookie. She bit into it.
“Where is Pastor Lars?” Patrick asked. “Do you think he was caught?”
Beth swallowed. She wished she had some water. “He must have run in a different direction,” Beth said. “God will take care of him, though. At least I hope He will.”
“When do you think we’ll find Amelia?” Patrick asked.
“I don’t know,” Beth said. “I can’t think why Amelia’s Imagination Station program has a Bible smuggler in it. She’s all about science and becoming famous for something.”
“And why do I have so much money?” Patrick asked.
Beth had no answers. But she had other things on her mind. She turned off the flashlight and stayed awake for a little while. She prayed, asking God for safety for Pastor Lars and the other Christians.
Patrick woke when the door to the secret compartment slid open. A flood of light filled the cozy hiding space. A woman wearing a cream-colored shawl stood in the opening. She was only a little taller than Patrick.
Beth yawned and stretched her arms above her head. She still looked sleepy. Her clothes were rumpled and her beret was missing.
Patrick brushed the cookie crumbs off of his blazer.
The woman said something in Russian. Patrick didn’t understand a single word.
“Nadia,” the woman said simply. She pointed to her breastbone.
“Patrick,” Patrick said, pointing to himself. He motioned toward Beth with his head. “Beth.”
The woman wrapped the shawl around herself tightly. “Patrick. Beth.”
“I think we need a Russian–English dictionary,” Beth said.
“That would be nice,” Patrick said. “I do have this English Bible. But that’s not going to help.”
“Actually, maybe it can,” Beth said. “That is, if this woman has a Russian Bible. And if we can remember a few of our memory verses.”
Patrick showed the Bible to Nadia. Her eyes lit up with approval.
Beth said, “Bible” and pointed to it.
Nadia nodded cheerfully. “Bible,” she said.
“Do you have a Bible?” Patrick asked. “A Russian Bible?”
Nadia nodded again, seemingly understanding Patrick. She motioned for the cousins to come with her.
The cousins followed her up the stairs into the kitchen. Iron pots and skillets hung from the ceiling. Tin cans sat on shelves. Brightly colored dish towels hung from the oven door handle. A fire burned in a large woodstove.
Nadia left the room. Several minutes later she came back with a large, old book. It was leather with brass decorations on the corners. A wood and brass cross was affixed to the front.
“What do we want to ask first?” Beth asked Patrick. “Probably something easy.”
He wanted to ask where Pastor Lars was. He wanted to know if the police had arrested any Christians. But those certainly weren’t simple questions.
Patrick was hungry, and they were in the kitchen. He said, “May we have breakfast? That’s an easy question.”
“Okay,” Beth said. “The Bible says Jesus ate breakfast with his disciples. It was when he appeared after rising from the dead.” She flipped through the English Bible till she came near the end of John’s Gospel. “There,” she said. “Chapter 21, verse 12. Jesus was cooking breakfast.”
Patrick motioned that he’d like to use the Russian Bible. Nadia handed it to him. It was a family Bible. In the front pages, there was a big list of what looked like names and dates. Some of the dates went back to 1840.
Patrick quickly found the New Testament. Then he counted the book divisions till he came to the fourth book. After that, he followed the numbers that marked the chapters and verses until he came to the right place.
Patrick pointed to the verse. Nadia looked at it. She smiled and nodded.
Nadia stood on her tiptoes and reached for something on a high shelf. She lowered her arm and showed them a can of sardines.
“Oh,” Patrick said. “Jesus was making fish and bread for breakfast, so she thinks we want fish.”
“It’s good manners to eat what a host gives you,” Beth said with a smile.
“Isn’t there a verse about bacon?” Patrick asked. “Or donuts?”
“Bible people didn’t eat pork,” Beth said. “I can ask for bread, though, without the fish.”
Patrick smiled.
Beth showed Nadia John 6:35 in the Russian Bible. Beth read, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never grow hungry.”
Nadia nodded. “Da,” she said. She opened a wood box on the kitchen counter and took out a round loaf of bread. She cut thick slices and spread butter on them.
Patrick and Beth sat at the little table and ate. The bread was soft inside but had a thick crust. It tasted a bit sour. Patrick thought it was delicious.
Nadia gave them each a glass of milk. Patrick chugged his glass quickly. He wiped his hands on a napkin after he had finished eating.
Patrick picked up the English Bible. He flipped through the pages. He stopped at a psalm that had the word thanks. Next, he found that verse in the Russian Bible.
Nadia smiled when she read the words from Psalm 9:1.
“Find a Scripture that has the word pastor,” Beth said. “We need to know about Pastor Lars and Pastor Volkov.”
Suddenly Patrick heard heavy footsteps. Someone was on the back porch. Then came the knocking. Tap, tap, tappity tap. The back door creaked open.
The cousins stood to rush downstairs. But Nadia stopped them. She tapped on the counter. Tap, tap, tappity tap.
The tapping is a code that means it’s safe, Patrick thought.
Pastor Volkov rushed into the kitchen. His right hand was wrapped in a bandage. There were several spots of blood on the white gauze.
The pastor greeted Nadia in Russian and gave her a hug. She took his bandaged hand and kissed it. Nadia is Pastor Volkov’s wife, Patrick thought.
“What happened to your hand?” Beth asked.
“It is nothing,” Pastor Volkov said. “Just a disagreement with the police.”
“The Musical Ghost has vanished,” he continued. “And everyone else escaped too. But they know I was there. They questioned me. They will search this house any minute.”
His glance landed on the Bibles. “Those must be hidden,” he said. “We could go to prison for having them.”
Nadia picked up the old Russian Bible, her family Bible. She started to leave the room.
The sound of a car in the front of the house made her freeze. Beth looked outside the window. “It is a blue car with a red stripe.”
Nadia had seen the car too. “Politsiya,” she said.
Pastor Volkov nodded. “Police,” he said. He grabbed the Russian Bible from his wife’s arms and shoved it inside the wood stove.
Beth picked up the English Bible and shoved it in the stove too.
“Go out back,” Pastor Volkov said. “No time to hide.”
Patrick grabbed Beth’s hand, and they ran toward the back porch together.
The sound of Nadia’s sobs and the smell of burning paper followed them out the door.