by Rena Rossner
“But what if Laya goes back home and I’m not there? What if the bear comes back?”
“I’m not letting you go back out there, do you understand me?” She raises her voice. “Your parents may be gone but someone needs to tell you what’s what.”
We sit in silence by the fire waiting for the men to come home, but everything catches up with me and soon I find myself nodding off. I lie down on the sofa and try so hard to keep my eyes open, but my body won’t let me. Mrs. Meisels ushers me up the stairs and to Dovid’s bed. It smells like cedar and wood smoke and falling leaves. “I’ll wake you when they get back home,” she promises, and kisses my forehead.
As I fall back asleep, my mind races. I still don’t understand why they’re looking for Tati. I’m worried about Laya, but I’m grateful for company, for the safety of a home. Mrs. Meisels is right: there’s nothing I can do about it now. Not with those men out there. Not with a bear in our house. It’s better if I stay put. I’ll just close my eyes for a bit, until Dovid gets back. He can go with me to find Laya.
I dream that I’m fishing in a stream for wild salmon. I wade in up to my knees and feel the cool stones beneath my feet, the rush of water, and as a fish swims near and slips between my ankles, it’s as if every muscle of my body knows what to do. I reach one hand down and—lightning fast—I swipe at the fish and catch it. Just like I did in the woods. It’s only when I bring the still-writhing fish up out of the water that I see I’ve mauled the fish straight through.
I wake up with a gasp and look down at my hands. My fingers are claws again. I quickly hide them under the blankets. I must leave this house. I am a danger to everyone. What if I hurt Mrs. Meisels?
I wait until my big bear heart stops thundering in my chest and I get up, careful to keep my hands in my pockets. I tiptoe down the stairs and see Mrs. Meisels snoring by the fire. I put on my coat, unlock the door and step out of the house. I take off at a run, hoping that if I’m fast enough, no one will stop me. My hands want to touch the earth; my toes want to feel the forest floor beneath my feet; I feel like I can smell and taste every aspect of the forest. As air cycles through my nose and into my lungs, I suddenly know every tree and plant; I can sense every creature around me. Something is wrong in the forest. I can smell rot, something coppery, almost like blood. My body churns with raw energy, my fingernails are full-out claws, and the fur on my coat matches the brown pelt that has partially sprouted on my arms and legs. My teeth are long and sharp, my nose perhaps a bit more snout-like, my eyes so wide that I take in elements around me I never noticed before—places where I know creatures have burrowed for the winter, scratches against tree bark marking territory, and trees that part the way for me, their branches like a curtain pulling back, revealing endless wilderness. I feel like I could just keep running, so dark and deep and wide is the Kodari. But I must focus on the scent of home. I’m no longer scared of myself—all thoughts of I don’t want to be a bear are gone and replaced by a feeling of power. A feeling of rightness. A knowledge that nothing will get in my way because tonight I have claws and teeth.
But when I finally find myself on the threshold of home I stand up and see that my skin is white and whole again, and I stop and look up at the moon, tears streaming down my face. I’m not sure if I’m crying because of the relief I felt to just let myself go—to let myself be free—or because I finally became the thing I never wanted to be—a beast. I wrap my coat around me for warmth and open the door.
I’m surprised to find Laya fast asleep in our parents’ bed, as if it had all been a dream. I swallow hard and rub my eyes. Did I imagine everything? Was she here all along? What is happening to me?
I crawl into bed beside her and wrap my thick limbs around my sister’s thin ones. Something changed in me tonight, and somehow I know I won’t hurt Laya. She means everything to me. I burrow my coal-black hair into the pillow beside my sister’s golden locks. I don’t think of anything but the fact that she’s here and safe and whole and in my arms. I fall asleep.
52
Laya
I wake up, throat parched.
Liba is asleep beside me.
I detangle myself from her arms
and pour myself some water.
I drink a full glass
but I’m still thirsty.
My fingers are
sore sore sore,
and my lips
and other parts
of my body
that I didn’t know
could feel sore.
I drink again,
and again,
but nothing quenches
my thirst.
My throat burns,
and my stomach
churns from hunger.
There is only one thing
I crave.
I scratch my back
in the same two places
that always itch,
and watch my sister sleep.
Tears fall from my eyes.
53
Liba
The door to our cottage bursts open and I wake with a start. “Who’s there?”
“You’re here!” Dovid says.
“Dovid! It’s … it’s morning … are you all right?”
His eyes are red-rimmed; his lips are faintly pink—they look cold and parched. He licks them and clears his throat.
“I see you found your sister.”
“Just now. I mean, I came back last night and she was here, so yes.”
“Mother said you came to visit. She said you fell asleep in my bed, but she woke up and you were gone. We thought …” His voice cracks. “Liba … I thought you were gone too …” His eyes glisten with tears. “You worried her. You worried me,” he says.
“I’m so sorry …”
“I was scared that something happened …” He rubs his sleeve across his eyes.
My heart clenches. “I didn’t mean …” I shake my head. “I didn’t think.”
He licks his lips again and nods, but then he looks away. I was so worried about Laya, about myself, that I forgot there are other people who care for me now too …
“Come in—please sit down …” I don’t know what to say.
Laya is already up on her feet. “I’ll make tea.”
His curly hair looks tossed from wind and weather. Like brown sheep’s wool I’d like to run my fingers through …
“What’s wrong?” he says.
“Nothing. I was … just looking at you. Sorry. It seems as though I’ve lost my head. It was a strange night.”
“Indeed.”
I cringe. His mother must have been out of her mind with worry.
“Did you find anything out there?” I ask.
“Nothing. More of a feeling in the trees, like something was watching us. We all felt it. Like a prickly sensation in our bones, especially out past the old oak tree. Mother told me that you bumped into some men?”
Laya freezes in place. “What men?”
“They said they were looking for Tati,” I explain. “One of them was that man, Ruven, who bought honey from us in the market square.”
My eyes meet Laya’s across the room.
“What were their names again?” Dovid asks.
“Ruven and Alter,” I answer.
“No last names?” he asks.
I shake my head.
Laya brings over the pot and two mugs. “Will you have some tea?” she says.
Dovid nods and quips, “It’ll save me the trouble of having to go back home and explain to my mother that I came all this way to check on you and you didn’t even offer me something to drink.” He grins and looks at me, but I see that the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You never know, my mother might be on her way here now to scold you and ask why you didn’t even offer her son a hot drink after he was up all night searching the forest for you two.”
I can’t help but smile a bit. “She wouldn’t …” I say.
“My mother’s a formidable woman,” he says.
“You must still be on her good side.” Dovid winks and takes a sip of tea.
“Your bed was very comfortable last night.”
My sister’s eyebrows rise. “And where were you going to sleep when you got home, Dovid?”
He shrugs his shoulders and says, “With my younger brother, Benji. I don’t mind.”
The words hang in the air.
“So—tea?” Laya’s voice rings out.
“Yes, please,” I say, and laugh nervously.
“Maybe I should go outside for a walk?” Laya says.
“No!” Dovid and I both counter simultaneously.
“It’s cold out there,” I say.
“I should be going anyway,” he says.
“But you just got here!” I say, and I put my hand on his. Laya looks at my hand; Dovid looks at my hand. I put it back in my lap.
“Why don’t the two of you go for a little walk while I clean up here?” Laya offers. “You can accompany him part of the way back to the village.”
“No, I won’t go that far. I’ll just walk you out,” I say. “Laya, we’ll just be right in front of the door.” There’s no way I’m leaving Laya alone again.
“Okay,” Dovid says.
As soon as we’re outside, I take his hand in mine. He brings it to his lips and kisses it.
“Are you okay?” He brings me close to his chest.
“Yes …” I take a deep breath. “Follow me,” I say. We’ll just go behind the house, not far …
I feel like I need to see the river. My inner compass takes me there. When I can see it, everything makes sense. The water pulses through the forest like blood through a vein and the sound clears my head.
“Mother said you ate like a bear.” Dovid grins, this time with more feeling.
“That’s an embarrassing thing for a mother to say.”
“Heh. I guess it is. I don’t think she meant it that way. I think she meant to say that you were hungry—both of you must be—living out here all on your own.”
I shrug my shoulders.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
I rub my arms nervously. This is where I tell him. Right now, Liba.
“Hey …” Dovid stops and turns my face to his. He put his hands on my arms to warm them. “Liba. Hunger is nothing to be ashamed of. Your parents shouldn’t have left you like they did.”
“They did what they had to do.”
“But you’re only … how old are you?”
I turn away from him. “I’m old enough.”
“Well, I’m eighteen and I still rely on my parents for all sorts of things. I can’t imagine living alone yet.”
“I’m not alone. I have my sister. And my parents are coming back.”
“Mother said that Laya was gone. That you feared her missing.”
“I did.”
“Was she with Fedir again?”
I sigh. “It’s not like the whole town doesn’t know.”
“Those boys are good fun and I know all the girls like them, but there’s something off about them.”
“I know.”
“The whole town searched for bears in the woods last night too, and not one of them made an appearance to help. Strange, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t know that.” I shiver. “That’s very strange.”
“Do you find them attractive? Do you desire that fruit?”
“Dovid! I would never! How could you think that of me?”
“Just curious.” He shrugs. “All the other women in our town seem to be enamored with them.”
“They’re not my type. And my father would never approve of me behaving like that with a goy.” I blush. “Well, with anyone really.”
“He won’t approve of me, you mean.”
I close my eyes. “I didn’t say that.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
“Dovid, my father … he’s very particular. He … well, to be honest, I think he plans to look for someone for me in Kupel.”
I see Dovid’s face fall. “Is that what you want?” he says, his voice soft.
I shake my head. “No. I thought … my whole life I thought that I did. But … things are different now.”
“What’s changed?”
I look up at him. “I found you.” I can’t believe the words I’m saying, but as they leave my mouth, I know they’re true. And I don’t want to take them back.
Dovid pulls me into a hug and holds me tight against his chest. “If I was a father, I would want my daughter to be happy,” he says into my hair.
I laugh and look up at him. “That only works if your daughter isn’t Laya,” I say.
“What about those men you saw?”
I shake my head. “I honestly don’t know who they are. They said they came here looking for my father. They’re from Kupel—but that’s where he went. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t like it at all.”
“Neither do I. Listen, I have to go back inside and take care of Laya.”
“Looks to me like Laya takes care of herself.”
I shake my head. “I know she seemed better just now, but she could barely lift her head yesterday. I’m not letting her out of my sight. If she goes missing again, you don’t know what it’s like to feel that way about someone you love …”
“Actually, I kind of do …”
I blush and look down at my feet. “I’m so sorry I scared you. I promise I’ll never do that again.”
Dovid puts his arms around me again. He nudges my neck with his nose. Each time he touches me it’s as though a thousand tiny pricks of flame ignite themselves inside me. I know he wants to kiss me, but I’m worried that we’ve been out here too long.
“I should go back inside.”
He clears his throat. “Go check on her and come back out.”
I shake my head.
“Five more minutes?”
I nod.
“You know, it’s really beautiful here,” he says.
“You never come here?”
“Nobody in the village willingly goes into these woods. Everyone says that they’re enchanted or haunted—depends on who you ask.”
I laugh. “The only thing haunting these woods is me.” I blush and quickly add, “And my sister.”
“Formidable ghosts.”
“This is Kodari, ancient forest. These trees have lived longer than any of us, and they will live long after we are all gone from Dubossary.”
“We’re never going to leave Dubossary … The Jews have been here for nearly three hundred years!”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Your brother went to America. Maybe he’ll send for all of you. Maybe things will get worse for us. You know our history … Wherever the Jews go, the land prospers, but somehow the land finds a way to spit us out.”
“It’s not the land,” he says. “It’s the people.”
“I’ve been hearing horrible things in the marketplace.” I rub my arms.
Dovid nods. “It will all work out, you’ll see. We’ll find the bears and prove Jennike’s death had nothing to do with us, and they’ll forget all about it.”
“I hope so.”
54
Laya
As I clear the teacups
and saucers,
I think about Dovid and Liba.
He looks at her like she
is light and air, like she
is fresh, like sweet grass
and river water, like a storm
at the start of summer,
like he could wrap himself
in her smell forever.
Fedir doesn’t look at me
like that.
>
Suddenly my stomach cramps.
I bend over in pain.
I feel a thirst so strong
it threatens to rend me
in two.
I limp over to the table,
still hunched over,
and pick up the pot of tea.
I put the spout in my mouth
and down its contents in one go.
But it doesn’t quench my thirst.
I sink down
on the packed-earth floor
clutching my stomach.
I hear the sounds
of bells and whistles,
of the flute,
and the violin,
melodies I’d heard
by the campfire.
I feel like my brain
is on fire.
I clutch
at my head;
my stomach hurts—
what is happening to me?
I lie down
on the floor
holding everything
and nothing
nothing
nothing.
My back itches
like it always does,
my fingers and toes feel like
they’ve been pricked by
a thousand tiny shards
of glass.
There are stars in my eyes.
I try to breathe
but there are
swirling planets
beneath my eyelids,
and a face,
soft and kind
with black eyes
and white wings.
Mother?
But then the woman
is a man,
a young man.
He sits beside my head
and caresses my brow
and kisses my forehead,
and begins to rub
my back.
The pain
dulls to an ache.
You can fly,
he says.
You will soon
grow your wings.
Your time is coming.