Chapter 8 Section VIII

I got home that night and got the news that we were moving. This whole day has left me exhausted, and from now on, there will be no more easy days. My teacher, to whom I could have poured my heart out, now treats me like I did something to hurt her. My friends—whom I once regarded as friends and still try to keep them—were avoided as strangers.Our family was ostracized. No one sued me, no one accused me.What can they say?I didn't do anything after all. Their attitude changed from the day their father was arrested. I didn't get a word of explanation. In fact, I can't expect anyone to explain it to me.

Their attitude is not new to me.However, this time it was me. I am not a gypsy, nor a Jew.Not even the Slavs. My guilt... my guilt comes from my father, my dear papa. I came to the front of the house and stretched out my hand to push open the cracked wooden door.Rusted hinges groaned in protest.I glanced into the gloomy interior, stepped over the threshold, and paused to let my eyes adjust to the dim light. "Anka?" "Mother." I saw my mother's figure sitting on a wooden bench by the dying fireplace.Nikolay fell asleep on the floor beside her, in the cold spring night, with only a sack of burlap to offer him some warmth.I ran forward and hugged my mother, and we hugged each other tightly, as if separated by weeks, even months, rather than just a day.

The silence that followed alerted me that something was wrong.I let go of my arms and looked into my mother's eyes for a clue. I found out that she had cried and my eyes were wet too.But I was vaguely aware of a sense of responsibility, so I held back my tears. "What's the matter, Mom? What happened?" Mother gently embraced me in her arms.She took a deep breath, her chest heaving, trying to figure out how to respond to me.I wasn't surprised when those words finally came out of her mouth, but that didn't make them any less unpleasant. "We have to move, Anka."

I didn't move, letting the information slowly sink into my brain.Mom turned her face away, not daring to look at me. After Dad was executed, we were told we might have to move to another town.They said it was done to ease our pain.The officer seemed a kind man, and his tender concern for us was evidently genuine.But how are we to trust him when he wears the same uniform as the men who killed Dad? "Where are we going to move?" I asked casually, just to break the silence.The destination is not important at all, I just forgot the strange place name.I'm already thinking about another, more critical question.

"When are we leaving, mother?" "Tomorrow afternoon." I was taken aback by the answer: "Tomorrow? But..." I didn't go on, because I realized that my objection was flimsy.We had very little to pack.Those belongings that were not confiscated by the Nazis as punishment were quickly sold off.Our furniture—what was not exchanged for food—was also dismantled for firewood, so that Nikolay could have a fire to keep warm at night.As for clothes, there was not much left but what we were wearing.And now we... I... don't even have friends to say goodbye to.Mom's voice rang in my ears again.

"We have to go to Bucharest first, and when we get there we will be shown where we are going. We must be at the station by noon tomorrow, Anka." When I heard the station, scenes of memories suddenly appeared in my mind.I am sitting on the train.Constanta.The hiss of steam.The forward lean of the wheel when the brakes are applied hard.That is the memory of my first train ride when I was eleven years old. "Are we going far away, mother?" Nikolay woke up.My mind jumped back to reality—the cold reality before me. Nikolay's eyes were bright with curiosity, as if he had been awake the whole time.Maybe he wasn't asleep just now.Sleep is never easy anymore.I can close my eyes, but I cannot be blinded by what is happening in reality, even my dreams.

Maybe it's the same for Nikolai, I don't know.He's only six years old, and he's approaching his seventh birthday, but I'm not even sure what date it is. Time means nothing to me, or anyone else. Unknown tomorrow.Today is full of fear.Happiness exists only in the past.no doubt. Nikolay's little fingers took mine.His expression became focused and he stared straight into my eyes. "Anka?" Mom was already back in the living room, preparing the next meal, and I realized that Nikolai wanted answers from me, and I couldn't satisfy him. "Rest, little guy, it's late." I held his little hand, smiled at him, and tightened his hand comfortingly.

He smiled at me too, and squeezed my hand back tightly.That is the firm bond between siblings. After a while, my mother brought our meal, we thanked gratefully, and started to eat.Gone are the days when we were picky eaters in bowls, and now we enjoy every precious morsel because we don’t know how long we’ll have to wait until the next meal is finished. After we had scraped off the food on our plates, my mother said, "Nikolai, dear, try to sleep now. We will be very busy tomorrow." I echoed my mother's words, hugged my brother's thin body, hugged him, and felt relieved and warm from his body.I put out a hand to hold Mom's, but I dare not look her in the eye.I turned my gaze back to my brother.

"Nicholas, mother and I are going to take you on a special trip tomorrow. Take the train." "Train?" Nikolay said with a bright smile on his face. "Oh, mother, can I have a seat by the window? Okay, mother? I'll be good! Shall we go to the sea? Anka, Where are we going?" His voice was full of excitement, the kind of excitement that only a young child who is not overwhelmed by the harsh reality can have.I found myself yearning, if only I could go back to being six. "Shh, little guy, don't make trouble." I reprimanded lightly, "Our destination is a surprise for you and me. Only mother knows where we are going. But you have to sleep now, or tomorrow, you You will be too tired to enjoy the fun journey."

"We should all go to bed, Anka. You too," my mother urged. "Tomorrow is going to be a very hard day, I'm sure of that." I felt her grip on my hand tighten, and then I didn't want it. let go.She gestured to Nikolay to go to sleep, and urged me: "Anka, be good. My back hurts again tonight." She bent down and kissed Nikolai lightly. "Good night, Nicholas. God bless you." "Good night, Mom. Take us to the beach tomorrow!" I stood up, gently picked up Nikolai, bent down and kissed my mother.Our eyes met and I said, "Good night, Mom. I love you."

She tried to answer, but couldn't make a sound, and complex emotions welled up in her eyes.At last she said, "God bless you, Anka." I carried Nikolai back to our room and laid him gently on his crib. "Do you think we'll go to the beach, Anka?" Nikolai asked again as I helped him take off his shoes. "I don't know, Nicholas. All I know is that if you don't go to bed soon, mother may change her mind, and we won't be going anywhere to-morrow." A panicked look flashed across his little face, "I fell asleep, Anka. Look!" He closed his eyes tightly, pretending to be asleep, and tried his best to hold back his smile. "Good night, little one." I kissed his forehead, then went back to my own bed, took off my clothes slowly, and got into the thin quilt hesitantly. On the other side of the room, Nicholas's breathing gradually slowed down, as if he had really fallen asleep.I wasn't as lucky as him, I would toss and turn all night and pretend to fall asleep when my mom opened the door to watch us. Later, I probably fell into a doze, because after an unknown period of time, I was awakened by a burst of crying.At first I thought it was Nikolai, but when my mind woke up from the dream, I realized the voice was coming from Mom's room. I got up quietly, walked across the room to the door, and wanted to comfort my mother, but I saw her sitting at the table and weeping softly, with a small candle in front of her, the faint light struggling under the siege of darkness.I hesitated again.She was holding a quill in her hand, and she was probably writing in a diary, I thought.Because I know she has the habit of keeping a diary. I stood quietly at the door for a while, and then went back to my room without my mother noticing.One needs to be alone sometimes, and I know that.Mom thought we were all asleep, let her think so.I lay back on the bed and cried silently to sleep.