“Can you do anything with the shoe?” Lidka asked. “Is there something you say or something you do to it? I can understand if you did not want to make it work in front of Malwinka, but you can go ahead now while no one is watching.”
Kate snorted. “You’re watching. But really, it’s not an act. I don’t know what to do. Aunt Elsie had never seen the shoes herself, and if there was a magic word or something, she never told me. I think I’ll need to take it back to Italy. We could start at that building where the boy found the dog tags. Will she let me?”
Lidka ignored her suggestion about Italy. “What about Fyodora? She spoke with you before we left. How did she instruct?”
“She said nothing about how to use the shoes, only that she wanted me to be nice to you.”
Lidka frowned, and Kate couldn’t decide what that frown meant. Was she disappointed that they knew nothing, or that Princess Kolodenko was focused on Lidka?
“Sleep with the shoe under your pillow and see if you dream about place where papa is.”
“Where is the bathroom?” Kate asked. She needed a moment alone to process.
“Down hall, on left.”
“Thanks.” Kate started in that direction, still holding the shoe, but remembered her bags left unattended. She came back to the room and Lidka smiled at her. She was standing in the middle of the room, closer to Kate’s bed. “Excuse me,” Kate said, slipping past and grabbing her bags.
After closing the bathroom door, she locked it. At last, she was alone with the shoe.
She examined every inch of it, trying to come to terms with the fact that this was the famous glass slipper. The high-heeled shoe appeared delicate, yet with all those diamonds nestled close together, it felt solid. The diamonds dazzled as if they had their own energy source and didn’t need to reflect any light to make them shine so beautifully. No wonder people described Cinderella as stepping on stars as she danced.
She tried it on again, cramming her foot in as far as it would go. The shoe was hard and unrelenting. Well, according to legend, it would only fit the original Cinderella.
She sat down on the edge of the tub to think and the rug slipped, revealing a tiled mosaic on the floor. A shield with an eagle, a horseman, and a crown. The Kolodenko family crest. Kate sucked in a breath. There was only one reason she could think that the crest would be on the floor—this residence used to belong to the Kolodenkos. This was one of the buildings taken from them after the war. No wonder Lidka didn’t want to tell them what town she was taking Kate to. Giving her the benefit of the doubt, Kate could imagine Lidka protecting the Kolodenkos by not letting them know who was now living in their old home.
There was a knock on the door. “You okay?” Lidka. So much for breathing room.
“Yes. Fine.” She opened the door. “I noticed this crest here, in the tile.”
“There is another in the dining room, and another in the sitting room. You must have missed it.” Lidka crossed her arms and waited.
“Do the Kolodenkos know what has happened to their house?”
Lidka leaned against the doorframe. She looked away. “I have not told them. They know the state has taken much of their property and shared it with others.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
Lidka pushed off the frame and set her shoulders. “Why should it? How many homes does a family need when some of us have none?”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t know that you’d feel the same way if roles were reversed.”
Lidka shrugged. “Are you feeling things with that shoe?”
It was Kate’s turn to shrug. She still wasn’t sensing anything. “What if we need someone from the direct line of Kopciuszek to make it work? What if we need Nessa?” What if I can’t do it?
“It must be you, and you need to figure it out quickly. Malwinka is patient, but she will not wait forever.”
Chapter Thirty
When the answers didn’t come in a dream, Kate began to panic. After three days with the shoe, she had no answers and no clues on how to find those answers.
The prospect of having come so far and risking so much ate at her insides. She could still see the slump of Johnny’s shoulders as he blended into the crowd. She missed him. More than when he went away to boot camp. She had taken for granted that he was always there to listen to her problems and help her figure things out. She took a deep breath. If nothing else came of this trip, she’d at least learned how important he had become to her.
And then there was Malwinka. It seemed as if she assumed Kate wasn’t trying very hard because she didn’t trust the Burgosovs. That was half true. She didn’t fully trust them, but she was trying. If only Aunt Elsie could have come with her. Together they’d be able to work out what to do. Even Nessa might have been a help. She knew even less than Kate, but she, at least, was eager to test things out.
Each morning, Malwinka asked her if she’d discovered the secret of the shoes. She hadn’t. How long would Malwinka let it go on before she pronounced the experiment a failure and asked for the shoe back?
All throughout breakfast on the fourth day, Kate worked up her courage. The others—the maid who was really Malwinka’s granddaughter, and the driver, who was Malwinka’s son, chatted in Polish, leaving her out of the conversation. They’d already deemed her a failure and not worth their effort to talk to. Kate was ready to pack up and go home. She’d tried, but Princess Kolodenko was right. The shoes would not help.
There was only one other thing she wanted to try. “What if my dad is too far away in Italy for the shoe to work? May we take it back with us?”
Malwinka’s smile disappeared. “You are forbidden to take the shoe to the Kolodenkos.”
Everyone stared at Kate as Lidka translated. She could feel the blood rush to her face under the scrutiny. As accommodating as Malwinka had been, she was still from the feuding line of stepsisters. Of course she would not give up any gains she had made.
“I’m also wondering if the shoes only find separated sweethearts, like Kopciuszek and the prince.” And Johnny and me. She swallowed self-consciously.
Malwinka leaned forward at the name Kopciuszek and demanded a translation. After Lidka explained, Malwinka shook her head. “Nie. Not only young lovers. Kopciuszek gave the shoes to Nadzia the day our family advanced on the kingdom to rid ourselves of the Kolodenkos. Princess and servant used them to find each other many years later.”
Lidka piped up. “I know what you are thinking. Your boyfriend is not lost from you. He knows where you are. The shoe will not reunite you.”
Kate hoped Lidka was right, but she had her doubts. Her stomach churned with nerves. She was running out of time and couldn’t risk a wild rabbit trail. Each passing day brought her closer to their return trip to America.
“Let me know when you have some useful information for me,” she said. Even if Kate didn’t know the language, she would have gotten the idea from Malwinka’s tone. Kate kept her gaze on her plate and finished eating without looking up.
After the table was cleared away, Malwinka stood. “Come, girls. I am going to make some errands that will take us out into the country.” Her voice was light, as if she’d already forgotten the tension at the beginning of the meal. “Bring the shoe in your bag, Kate. If it is away from so many people who have lost loved ones, it might work better. The city might be too loud for it.”
Kate was eager to get out and see more of Poland. Babcia tried to pretend she had left it all behind, but despite her protestations, she had taught Kate her heritage. She had taught Kate to love the land.
The burly driver was waiting outside for them. He assisted Malwinka into the backseat, then stepped away to allow the girls in. Kate held back, letting Lidka go next. She didn’t want to sit by Malwinka, the warnings of the Burgosov still ringing in her ears. Malwinka was being nice, because she wanted something from Kate. Would she stay this nice if Kate couldn’t deliver? If she’d learned anything from this family, it was that everyone
was hiding secrets.
The rain and cloudy skies that had hovered for days had finally gone away, and the sun had called everyone, it seemed, out of doors. They drove through town on cobbled streets. After passing several buildings labeled bar mleczny, Kate asked, “What are those?”
“Milk bar,” Lidka said. “Is like cafeteria for the people. The factory workers, they eat for free. For others, is cheap food. Dairy food like milk, yogurt. The government does this new idea for health of the people.”
Kate wondered what Nessa would think of a government-run milk bar.
They continued on to the outskirts of town where women were hanging out the wash, past several abandoned buildings, and then through barren fields. Lidka leaned over and pointed. “That used to be village.” There was nothing but open meadow and tall weeds. “You have never seen anything like that in America. Sometimes a hatred is so much that a people is wiped out.”
Lidka always had to point out the worst in a situation.
The car took them through places that hadn’t been touched since the war. Town after town destroyed, with no one living there anymore. No reconstruction. She’d heard of these places, the bombed-out buildings described as skeletons, but to her they were like ghosts. Gray spindles, standing monuments to the lives buried in the rubble or burned to ash in the fires.
They arrived at a farm and Malwinka told the girls to stay in the car while she talked to the farm wife. The woman came out, wringing her hands, and invited Malwinka in. The driver went and stood by the falling-down porch steps.
“What is she doing?” Kate asked.
“Watch.” There was pride in Lidka’s voice.
There was shouting, then silence. Malwinka opened the door, a cloth-wrapped bundle in her hands, and not bothering to close the door, marched back to the car. The driver opened the trunk, and Kate could feel something land in the back.
“How did it go?” Lidka asked.
“It is done,” was the answer.
This strange process was repeated several times, at several different farmhouses. Sometimes Malwinka would take in a package, and other times, carry one out.
“This is last stop. Would you girls like to come with me?”
After watching the process for so long, Kate was intrigued and eager to see what happened behind closed doors. This house looked in worse repair than the others they’d been to as it still bore the scars of the war. A black smudge on the ground a few feet away could have been a barn that had burned down. The only animals they seemed to have were a skinny goat penned in a tiny enclosure, and two chickens meandering the yard. Three pairs of little eyes watched from behind a window frame missing its glass. Kate’s heart welled up with pity. She’d never seen such poverty.
Malwinka carried a small package, and when she knocked on the door, one of the little faces from the window came to the door and timidly opened it.
“Your mama, how is she?” Malwinka asked.
The little one pointed inside and let them enter. Malwinka sat by the woman’s bedside and took her hand. She spoke quiet words while Lidka made faces at the children. Kate figured she was trying to scare them off, but the kids found the expressions funny and it only attracted them to her more. Kate’s attention was divided. She didn’t know which Burgosov was more fascinating to her at this moment. She’d never considered Malwinka to be kind before. She didn’t realize how suspicious she’d been, always on the lookout for a trick.
When Malwinka opened the package to reveal a music box, the woman on the bed burst into tears. Her frail hands reached up to take the box, and she called her young ones to her. She opened the box and a Chopin sonata filled the room. In such a setting it was both strikingly beautiful and sad at the same time.
As they left, Malwinka spoke in halted English. “I want you to see acts I do.” She continued in Polish for Lidka to translate. “The people here do what I say. I work to restore the peace. Now you trust me?”
Kate nodded, although trust wasn’t exactly what she would call it. Lack of fear, maybe.
Lidka pulled her arm and whispered. “She sets things right. People are afraid of her. She can make people return what does not belong to them. Same as with Kolodenkos.”
It was late when they got back to the house. The timid maid was waiting in the foyer to see if anyone wanted a warm milk before bed. Lidka gave her a withering look before marching past her and up the stairs. Kate would have followed Lidka if it weren’t for the hurt look on the maid’s face. She nodded and followed the young woman into the kitchen.
The maid slammed a pot onto the stove. Then she marched to the icebox and grabbed a bottle of milk. Kate slid onto a chair at the table, wishing she had followed Lidka. Something had angered this woman, more than just a snide look from Lidka. After she sloshed a mug in front of Kate, she dumped the pot in the sink and marched out of the room.
Kate touched the mug and drew her hand back. Well, what in the world? She’d have to wait for it to cool. She stood and paced the room, examining the Kolodenkos’ former home. The kitchen was tiled in white, as was the counter. The cupboards, also white, were carved with roses. The curtains over the window provided a bright splash of color with their red flower print. As Kate circled the room, she noticed a door at the far end and wondered if it led to a pantry. She went to open it when she heard low voices. It must be a servant’s passage, not a food pantry. The maid’s angry voice, followed by Malwinka’s calm one, came through the door.
“It’s not working,” the maid said.
“Did you put the glass slipper in the same room?” Malwinka answered. “Where the father can’t find it?”
“I’m not an idiot. But everyone is getting restless. They’re wondering if we should do away with him. Even if the daughter does find him, then what? We let them go?”
Kate’s ears began to burn.
“Be patient,” Malwinka said. “She’s hardly had time. We’ve had the shoes for years; she has had only days.”
“But he needs a doctor before it’s too late. We can’t keep him like this much longer.”
As realization sank in, Kate’s legs went limp. She grabbed for the counter to steady herself. They were talking about her dad. They had him, and he was in trouble.
“Everyone will be patient,” Malwinka said. “We’ve worked too hard to quit now.”
“You need to talk to them, then. I’m not going back there. I’m done. I don’t want to be a part of this anymore.”
“Fine. If this is the way you talk to your grandmother, then you are truly done. Leave. Tonight. May I never see your face again.”
The maid cried out, “But I have no where to go.”
“There is no place here for you. I only kept you this long for your father’s sake. No more.”
There was a sound of a door shutting, followed by a sharp sob.
Kate grabbed the mug of milk and drained it down the sink. She needed to get up to her room before she saw either Malwinka or the maid. As Babcia used to say, fear has big eyes, and she needed to pull herself together. Uncle Adalbert was right: Malwinka had finally revealed her true nature.
Kate had to figure out how to make the shoes work—and fast—before it was too late.
Chapter Thirty-One
Kate heard every sound in the house, from an irregular water drip somewhere near the back of the building, to the creaking, settling noises caused by a shift in winds, to Lidka rolling over in her sleep.
Dad is alive.
Tears of joy soaked into her pillow. This changed everything. Before, she was merely hoping, but now she knew for sure and had a way to find him. Even if she couldn’t get the shoes to do anything, Malwinka knew where he was.
And he needs a doctor.
Thoughts of Malwinka twisted up her stomach. What was this woman’s game? Not only were these Burgosovs selfish and devious, they were malicious. She had to get away from them, but they were the direct link to Dad. She could escape tonight and go to the police, but according to Lidka, M
alwinka had some kind of power over them. She would have to get farther away, but then how would she ever find her dad?
She was trapped. The only way out was to give them what they wanted. She had to make the shoes work. She reviewed everything she knew about the Cinderella story. Stories always had a glimmer of truth in them, even if they got some details wrong. With dismay, she realized she didn’t know that many details of the true Kopciuszek story. There were two versions she’d read in fairy-tale books. One where Cinderella’s mother died and a tree planted over her grave gave Cinderella the gifts of the dresses. And the other where there was a fairy godmother who took care of the details.
Now, what did either of those stories have to say about the glass slipper? Something about Cinderella having to leave by midnight and the magical items returning to the objects they were created from. She knew that the dresses didn’t disappear, so that part of the story had changed with the retelling.
One shoe was left behind when Cinderella ran from the ball as the clock was striking midnight and her magical items began to transform. From what Elsie had told her, she already knew the prince, so why would he have her try on the shoe to learn who she was? He wouldn’t. He would know her when he found her.
Malwinka had put the other shoe where her dad was. It was as if she was trying to replicate the scenario where one shoe was left behind for the prince to find, and the other remained with Kopciuszek. So if she could find the shoe, she could find Dad.
“Where is your partner?” she whispered to the shoe.
There was a flash. A glimmer. Kate sat up in bed and looked out the window. It was as if a flashlight had swept past the window and caught the facets cut into the shoe. She slipped out of bed and padded across the cold floor. The yard was dark, darker still near the linden trees where someone could hide and watch. She tried to open the window, but it wouldn’t budge. She pushed harder, remembering how sticky the sliders were when she opened it last, but she couldn’t do it. Then she noticed. It had been nailed shut.
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