He looked at the far shore. They were well away from torches and shouting people and search parties. He was surprised that patrol boats were not cruising the river. Someone had managed that badly. He decided to stay near this side of the river a while longer, in the event he had to leave the safety of the boat.
He needed desperately to get Hanna to a refuge. He had some friends in Kaunas, but none he knew well enough to risk the asking.
“Hanna.” She looked up at him. “Do you know anyone you could trust in Kovno?”
“Papa had some friends. Old Mr. Katzman, for example.”
Stephen thought that over carefully. “They mustn’t be Jewish,” he finally said. “There’s going to be an explosion all about us, and the Jews will be prime suspects.”
“You mean this will cause a pogrom?” asked Hanna, her blood running cold.
“I suppose so. A group of Jews involved in something that warranted a massive police trap is enough to trigger a reaction.”
“But it was not a group. You know that. Jakob and I became involved by accident.”
“You know it, and so do I. But the others may not.”
“Oh, Stephen,” said Hanna plaintively, tears coming to her eyes. “What have I done?”
“You haven’t done anything that any other person wouldn’t have done. All you did was protect yourself.”
Hanna wiped her eyes. “What would they do if Jakob and I gave ourselves up and explained what happened?”
Stephen’s face grew tight. “The first thing they would do is make you confess to being part of the plot, and then they’d put you against a wall and execute you. And they would still go ahead with a pogrom if it served their purpose.”
“You are speaking about your fellow Russians.”
“I’m merely speaking the truth.”
“What can we do?”
“The first thing is to get you and Jakob to a safe spot.” He fell silent thinking, still keeping up the swift, vigorous rowing. A possibility came to his mind. “I can’t take you to the farm. Sooner or later someone is going to comment that we’ve been together on occasion. They’ll certainly question me, and even more carefully check our property.”
“What will your father say?”
“To me? I don’t know. At this time and place, under these conditions, it doesn’t really matter.”
“Will you tell him about us?”
He shook his head. “It won’t help us, so why say anything. I’ll just explain that I liked you, but that was all.” He stopped rowing to look up and down river, and then started back to the north shore. “Do you know that old peat field a few versts from our farm?”
“Yes. A couple of the people down the street worked there some years ago.”
“The diggers made a small shelter off to one side, It’s underground. Would you mind staying there for a while?”
“Of course not, darling. But it’s a long way from the river. We’ve got to get help for Jakob first. Look at him. He is starting to shiver.”
Stephen took off his fine, blue jacket. “Put it over him.” He took a deep breath. “Hanna, Jakob will just have to take his chances. I’ve got to get you hidden before dawn, even at the risk of Jakob’s life.”
She eyed him levelly. “I owe him my life. Not once, but twice.”
“I know that. That is why he is here now. I will do all I can to help you both, but I can’t do anything until you are safe.”
Her lips tightened, and then she nodded. After a few minutes, she noticed that Jakob was stirring. She lowered her head. “Jakob. Can you hear me?”
Eyes still closed, he nodded his head feebly.
“Stephen is helping us, Jakob. We are in a boat. He is taking us to a safe place. Please hold out, Jakob. We will get you a doctor as soon as we can.”
His lips were moving. She bent her head closer, and then she realized that he was praying.
“How is he?” asked Stephen.
“I can’t tell. But he seems very bad.”
“Is he bleeding from the mouth?”
“A little. Why do you ask?”
“To find out if the saber hit a lung.”
“I see.” She was quiet for a few moments. “Will he die, Stephen?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.”
“Do people die if their lung is cut?”
“Not all the time.”
She picked up one of Jakob’s hands. It was limp and cold to the touch.
She began massaging it. “I will never get over it if he dies,” she murmured.
“I know,” said Stephen simply.
She looked up at him. His eyes were on her, still sad, but soft and tender also. She placed a hand on his knee. “You seem to know everything, my darling.”
A small smile played on his lips. “I just act like I do.”
She smiled back at him. “No, my dearest. You are the wisest man I will ever know.” Then her eyes grew distant. “Stephen, once Jakob and I are settled, will you please check on the children?”
“Of course I will. I’ll send Larisa in the event they are watching me.”
“Will you tell her about us?”
“May I?”
She nodded.
The boat was nearing shore, and they became especially alert. In another few strokes, it grounded. Stephen jumped out and tied it to some shrubs, and then he helped Hanna out. “Can you walk?” he asked her, deep concern in his eyes.
“I am all right. The bleeding has stopped.”
“If it starts again, I want you to tell me at once. Do you agree?”
“Yes.”
He lifted out Jakob and started off across a field of barley.
“Where are we?” whispered Hanna.
“In a direct line with the peat field. It’s easier going by the road, but we’ll be safer cutting cross country.” He turned his head to look back. “Are you still all right?”
“Yes. I am fine.”
In half an hour of hard marching, they were at the peat fields. Stephen, breathing heavily, lowered Jakob to the ground. “Wait here,” he said to Hanna. “I’ll look for the shelter.”
Hanna sank gratefully to her knees, her lungs pounding like bellows.
Keeping up with Stephen had brought on spells of dizziness, but she understood the need for speed, no matter how exhausting. She crawled over to Jakob. He was unconscious and barely breathing. She took one of his hands and began massaging it again.
In a short time, Stephen was back. Now she could see the fatigue on his face. He had not stopped one moment, and it seemed to be catching up to him. He scooped up Jakob again.
“It’s not far. A hundred meters or so.”
Wearily, Hanna got to her feet. She suddenly felt cold and realized that she was trembling, but she followed up the tall, square form of her lover. Down in a pit was a small wood hut, its roof covered with sod. The door was of unplaned wood, on leather hasps, and the floor was of peat. A rusted metal sheet was to one side, supported by a few bricks.
“I can’t make a fire,” explained Stephen. “I have no matches.” In the dark, he lowered Jakob to the floor. “You’ll have to manage until I get back.”
“I will manage.”
Stephen reached out and took her into his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder, her body still trembling. Dear, wonderful Stephen, she thought to herself. He knows exactly how much I need his arms around me.
He kissed her on the lips. “I must go now.” He knelt and took his coat from around Jakob. “I’m sorry,” he explained to Hanna. “It would be a dead giveaway if I returned without my jacket.” He kissed her again. “Goodbye, darling. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Then he was gone.
CHAPTER 18
Dawn rose slowly. Hanna awoke from a fitful sleep to hear Jakob moaning. She had lain next to him to keep him warm, and the shelter, dug into the side of a peat pit, had helped to retain heat. Throughout the night, Jakob had passed in and out of his coma, and Hanna had awakened e
ach time, feeling more and more inadequate to help him. One sign at least had been favorable–the bleeding had been arrested.
“Jakob,” she said softly. In the dim light, she could make out that he was stirring.
His moaning stopped. There was a moment of silence as if he was collecting his senses. “Is that you, Hanna?” His voice was reed thin.
“Yes.”
“Where are we?”
“Stephen brought us to a shack in the peat field.”
There was a few seconds of silence. “Stephen?”
“Yes. He arrived right after you were wounded.” She sat up. “He has gone for a doctor. Please hold out, Jakob.”
He was having trouble breathing. She saw him lift his hand to his chest. “Are you injured?” he asked her.
“No. Thanks to you.” She got up and opened the door to let in more light. Outside was a thin curtain of morning fog. She looked about. All she could see were mounds of broken peat piles. She came back to Jakob. His face was still deathly white and lined with pain. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“I’m very thirsty. But I don’t think I should drink with a chest wound.”
She could not help grinning. “From Torah?”
He chuckled, and then gasped with pain. When he caught his breath, he said, “Come to think of it, I’m not sure whether you shouldn’t drink if you have a chest wound or a stomach wound.” The few words tired him at once, and he began puffing with difficulty.
She leaned forward and felt his brow. He drew back at her touch, and then relaxed. His forehead was very warm. “I think you have a fever.”
He nodded. “I feel it. I had fevers often when I was recuperating from tuberculosis.”
“I didn’t know you had it.”
“That’s why my father sent me here. To get the fresh air.”
“No wonder you were so thin when you came.” She fell silent, looking at him carefully. The chest wound, she realized, was doubly dangerous now. She saw his lips moving again, and as he prayed, his hands began to relax from the fists he had formed to fight the pain, then his tight, drawn face slackened, and finally he slipped into a coma-sleep. Hanna let herself lay back onto the hard packed peat floor and soon dozed off again.
She was surprised to see the sun shining brightly when she awoke. From its angle, it was noon or later. She looked over at Jakob. He had barely moved from his former position, but his breathing was shallow and uneven.
She stepped outside. The warmth was pleasant to her face. She was starving. Without a breakfast, each hour was as if she had not eaten for a day. Concern about Stephen preyed on her mind. He should have been back long before now unless something serious happened. Her main hope was that he had persuaded Larisa to visit the children to make certain they were well. Gitel was old enough to prepare simple meals for the family if need be, and Uncle Samuel would surely have sent his daughter, Zelda, to supervise things once he heard of the circumstances.
A band of steel gripped her heart as she thought again of the consequences of her simple act of warning Hershel. Now she was a murderer, being hunted like a wild animal, and would be put to death horribly if she was apprehended. Jakob was dying. Gentle, intelligent Jakob, turned into a murderer also because of her, who would be put to death as quickly if he lasted long enough for the police to find him. And Stephen, implicated to the point of being as guilty. Perhaps he could escape death for helping, but he would certainly be sent to prison, and his future destroyed. Hanna almost broke into tears when she thought of the children. They would receive little more mercy than criminals themselves. At the very least, they would be sent to different homes, not to be reared with the love and devotion she could offer, but as servants or workers. Six year old children were often driven into the fields or into factories to work ten hour shifts with the adults, to be brutalized whenever they were unable to meet their daily quota. Good God! What had she done to them!
The tears finally came, but she brushed them away brusquely. As Papa had often said, “It is done. The milk is spilled. Clean it up and get back to milking again.” She must consider her next move. Somehow, she must find help for Jakob first of all. Then, when he is either safe or dead, she must leave this area and hide. Kaunas was out of the question. The police would scour that city first of all. It would have to be Vilnius. It was large enough to go underground. But who could she turn to there? Who would be insane enough to jeopardize himself or a family for her.
She climbed a path to the top of the pit and peeked over. A long field of swaying wheat stretched towards the east in the direction of Gremai. To the South, where the Nemunas flowed, were the huge peat fields, covering twenty or thirty hectares. Some of the village children had once been apprehended by the owner, a burly Russian merchant residing in Kaunas, in the act of taking bags of peat. He had forced the seniunas to call the gendarmes and charge the families with theft. The fathers had been hauled in front of a magistrate and heavily fined. Then at intervals the owner had sent men to check on the pits, but the magistrate’s action had served its purpose. So the fields were left untouched until the fall, when teams of men would dig out supplies for the winter.
To the West, towards the Baltic Sea, were checkerboards of farms and pine forests, many recovering from indiscriminate cutting by the Tzar.
Hanna sat there eyeing the East, from where Stephen would come.
After an hour or so, it struck her that she was taking an unnecessary risk of being sighted, so she returned to the shack. One touch of the restless, red blotched face of Jakob told her the worst, that fever was racking him. He was in great pain. A profound helplessness swept over her. Jakob was dying in front of her eyes; something awful had befallen Stephen, or else he would have been back long before now; there was the uncertainty of what was happening to the children. She must give up. Whatever she must face would be better than the strain of suspense.
Then, from deep inside, came a flush of anger at herself. This is not what I was born to, nor raised for. I will not forfeit Jakob and Stephen and my child and brother and sisters without fighting back. If I am to lose everything, including my life, I will not sit still and wait for it to occur. Comes nightfall, I will go for help. I will try Slabodka. If one person refuses to help, I will ask another, then another. If I am apprehended, I will be taken in the course of doing something. I can do no less, nor do more.
She went back in the peat pit. Here and there were pools of tepid water from previous rains and morning fog. She slipped out of her skirt and bloomers and rinsed from them the dried blood, then the stains from her body. She could not suffer to look at her vulva. What had come from it was her life’s blood–hers and Stephen’s.
At another pool, she dipped in the bloomers, then carried the sopping cotton back to the shack and started wiping Jakob’s face and forehead. His mouth opened to suck at the moisture, but she kept it away.
“You must not drink the water,” she told him, not certain that he understood. “It is not pure.” By the time evening shadows drew over the fields, Jakob seemed somewhat relieved.
She decided to wait another hour or two before going out to seek help, so she lay down to get some rest. She awoke from a deep, exhausted sleep at the sound of her name being called. A few moments later, the door opened, and Stephen walked in. A wave of joy and relief flooded throughout, and she leaped to her feet and into his embrace.
“Oh, Stephen,” she cried, hugging him with all her strength. “I was so worried about you.”
Their lips met with longing. When he could pull away, he said, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, my darling. All is well now.”
“How is Jakob?”
“Still bad.”
“Wait a minute.” He went outside and brought in a heavily packed sleeping roll. Opening it, he took out a candle and lit it. Then came two canteens, canned foods, bread, cooked chicken wrapped in cloth, and fresh vegetables. He handed over a canteen. “There’s water inside.” Gratefully, she took a long
swig, and then sat down with a sigh. Stephen lifted the candle and inspected Jakob. “He doesn’t look good,” he commented. “I didn’t think he would still be alive.”
“Did you contact a doctor?” asked Hanna.
He shook his head. “Impossible. I’ll tell you about it later. First of all, begin eating.”
As hungry as she was, she had a question on her lips from the moment she recognized Stephen. “What of the children?”
Stephen stopped laying out the food. In the candlelight she saw once again sorrow on his face. “They are with George Wilson, the American.”
“With Mr. Wilson?” she asked, surprised. “Whatever for? Why didn’t Uncle Sam take them?”
Stephen sank back on his haunches. “Your Uncle Samuel has been arrested.”
“Why?”
“It’s as I suspected, Hanna. Everyone thinks it’s a Jewish conspiracy, and that you are involved. Scores of people have been arrested.”
“Good Lord,” gasped Hanna. “Is someone watching the house?”
Stephen’s face tightened even further. “The gendarmes ransacked the house, and then burned it down.”
Hanna could not hold back the cry of despair. Tears filled her eyes. “Stephen, what have I done?”
“It’s not a matter of what you’ve done, dearest. It’s now a matter of keeping clear of the police and soldiers. But I’m not going to say another word until you start eating.”
Hanna wiped her tears. Her appetite had fled at the terrible news, but she realized that she must eat to keep up her strength. He handed over a piece of chicken, radishes, cucumbers, and carrots. She took a bite, and almost at once, she felt famished again.
“I couldn’t come sooner,” said Stephen. “Everything is in an uproar. They’ve brought in companies of soldiers and police, and they are already scouring the area. Others are searching Kaunas and most of the neighboring towns and villages. The police even have patrol boats cruising the river.”
“They will come here sooner or later, won’t they?”
“There’s no doubt of that. The news has spread throughout Russia. It has been exploited out of proportion. I was lucky last night. I arrived home half an hour before the gendarmes came. Someone told them that Larisa and I knew you. I explained that we had gone fishing a couple of times, and that I was…well, making a play for you.”
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