Reluctantly, I went to bed and lay awake for hours listening, but there were no further noises.
The next morning I went to the outhouse and found Nikolai’s hair in the bucket. I ran out calling for him. He was in the kitchen. I touched his hair. Chunks were missing; it was roughly shorn so that in some places his skull showed. He pulled his head away from my fingers. I looked into his eyes and Nikolai was changed. He was like a stranger. He could not look me in the eye.
‘What is it?’ I begged.
‘Nothing,’ he said curtly.
‘What happened last night?’
‘Nothing happened,’ he said sharply, and walked away from me.
I stood and stared after him. I could not understand it. Nikolai was not another person. He was a moveable extension of me. For the most part we didn’t even have to speak. We knew what the other was thinking. Always. In fact, my mother said she had never heard anybody else play a duet with such perfect timing as when we played together. It was like one person with four hands.
*****
When my father came home he was absolutely furious about what my brother had done to his hair. He gave my brother a package and told him to wear it. My brother went into my father’s bedroom and came out saying he would not wear it.
‘Do you want Lena to wear it?’ my father asked, and in his tone lurked something sinister.
My brother went white. He went back into the bedroom and came out wearing a dress! My sisters and I stared at my brother, speechless with horror.
*****
‘Let’s run away together,’ I whispered to my brother.
‘Where? Where will we go to, Lena?’ he asked resentfully. ‘The grand house where Anastasia is teaching mathematics?’
I was shocked at how changed he was. It was as if I was talking to my mother. All hope had vanished. Only a bitter shell remained.
‘What’s wrong with you?’
He looked at me sadly. ‘Everything.’
*****
The winter passed, and another chair stood empty against the wall. Nikolai and I turned sixteen. All thoughts of running away had long since been extinguished. There was no need to run away. I saw it with so much more clarity—we would be sold and that would be our escape. All that was left of our family was Nikolai, my two younger sisters and me.
Next it would be my turn. But when the time came, my father skipped me and sold Zena, who was a year younger than me. I could not understand it. Then I was seventeen when the black Volga came for my youngest sister.
All that were left were Nikolai and me.
*****
Nikolai had become a man and I a woman. He was nearly as tall as my father, but neither of us could stand up to Papa It was the mahout effect. When the elephant is a baby, the mahout will tie it to an iron post. The baby will try and try and eventually learn that there is no way to get loose. When it has grown up the mahout can tie it to the flimsiest stick and the elephant will not try to extricate itself because it has been conditioned to think that no post can be beaten. My brother and I had been conditioned to obey.
That spring we turned eighteen. Summer came and went. It was autumn when Nikolai smiled with relief and squeezing my hand said, ‘Don’t worry. I think he is not going to sell either of us.’
*****
‘Tomorrow is your turn. Be prepared to go,’ my father said less than a week later. His voice was very cold and mean.
My brother stared at him in shock. That evening I caught my brother by the hand and took him to the side of the house, to mother’s grave. I turned him around to face me.
‘Nikolai, I’ll come back for you. I don’t care how I do it. I will come back. Will you wait here for me?’
‘No you won’t,’ he said sadly and shook his head. His eyes were defeated and exhausted. ‘I won’t wait for you.’
‘Please,’ I begged.
He searched my face curiously. At that moment he reminded me of an animal. A dumb animal that was trying to figure out what you wanted it to do. I hated my father with a vengeance then.
‘None of the others have. Nobody comes back,’ he said with a finality that terrified me.
‘But I will. On Mamas grave I promise I will. Will you promise on Mama’s grave you will wait?’
‘I wish he had sold me instead,’ he muttered.
‘Don’t wish that. If he sells you I won’t know where to find you. Anyway, he will never sell you.’
The intolerable situation he was in struck both of us. We never ever spoke about it. I dropped my eyes so I would not look at his shame.
‘Yes, you are right. He will never sell me,’ he agreed, and there was an odd inflection in his voice.
I looked up at him.
‘Please. You must trust me that I will come back for you.’
He rubbed his earlobes and nodded, but did not meet my eyes.
I grabbed his hand. ‘Look at me and promise, Nikolai,’ I demanded fiercely.
‘I promise,’ he said. ‘I promise on Mother’s grave I will wait until you come.’
I smiled. I had his word. I was at peace. He smiled back. I touched his cheek.
‘Oh, Nikolai. I don’t know what it will be like without you.’
His Adam’s apple bobbed. ‘You will be fine, Lena.’ Tears ran down our faces.
When the men came the next day we stood facing each other. ‘Mind how you go, beautiful sister of mine.’
‘Until we meet again, my darling,’ I said kissing him hard on his lips. Outside the Volga idled quietly.
‘Remember your promise,’ I reminded, my fingers curling around his. They were rough with work. He tried to pull his hand away but I wouldn’t let go. I stared into his eyes.
He nodded distantly.
‘You must wait for me.’
‘I will.’
‘Neither fur nor feather,’ he said. His voice was listless.
‘Go to the devil,’ I said softly.
And I went out into the cold morning toward the black Volga. The Volga never aged. The men were different…and the same.
They passed my father a thick envelope. He did not open it. He simply called my name. ‘Lena.’
‘Yes, Father?’
‘It’s time to go. Obey these men as you would me.’
I did not look at him or answer him.
Chapter 5
The men did not look at or speak to me after I got into the car or as we drove away from my home. I clasped my hands tightly and remained silent. Ten minutes into the journey and the man in the passenger seat turned to look at me. He had slightly slanted Asian eyes and olive skin. His eyes were so black and cold they made me tingle.
‘We don’t want to hurt you. If you behave there will be no need for us to hurt you. Are you going to behave?’
I nodded. Of course I was going to behave. What else was I going to do? I was in a black Volga with two of the most dangerous-looking men I had ever seen being driven to God knows where. The driver looked into the rear-view mirror me at me. He had dark hair and cruel blue eyes. There was something low and mean about him.
They took me to a hotel where there was electricity, running water, a toilet that flushed, and the rustle of Russian newspapers. I slept on a comfortable bed and awakened to a breakfast of strawberry jam on French bread. They did not introduce themselves, but I learned from their conversation that the men were called Timur and Borka. Timur was obviously the leader and Borka was the mean idiot driving the car.
It was after we stopped for a bathroom break that I realized that they had forgotten to lock the doors. I did nothing. Just sat quietly at the back. Waiting. In the middle of a village near a crowded tavern where it looked like there was a celebration of some kind as men were standing around talking and drinking, I opened the door while the car was still moving, and rolled out.
The jarring pain of the tarmac was incredible. The car sped on as I lay on the road, winded and in terrible pain. But not for long. It screeched to a halt a few yards away. I wa
nted to run, but I could barely move. The car began reversing so fast it looked like a blur to my panicked eyes. With a burst of energy and a vicious twist of pain that made me scream I forced myself to my hands and feet and, rising upright, began to run.
I ran as fast as my wounded body would allow me to. I ran toward the celebrating villagers. There were men there. They were many and my captors were only two. They could help me, surely they would. I called out to them, and their faces turned in my direction, and they stared at me, running, hopping, limping. Defenseless.
Then calmly, as if with one mind, all of them turned away from the troublesome sight of a woman being chased by a black Volga and looked down into their drinks. They did not want to get involved. It was none of their business.
The force of Borka landing on me knocked me off my feet and we crashed onto the grass verge. For a while I was too winded to speak. Then he hauled me up roughly by the hair, and slapped me so hard my head snapped back.
From the side of the road Timur screamed, ‘Don’t mark her, you fucking animal.’
I could taste the blood from my split lip, but I looked up at Borka defiantly.
Something flared in his eyes. Rabid lust. I had never seen anyone look at me like that before and it shocked me. The greed was replaced by ugly anger. ‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he shouted and pulled me toward the car.
The other man peered at my face and turned angrily toward Borka. ‘You fucking idiot,’ he screamed. ‘You cut her.’
Borka immediately looked defensive. ‘It’s nothing. It will heal.’
‘If you touch her again I’ll break your fucking legs. And take that fucking look out of your eyes and stuff it up your shitty ass. Nobody is fucking spitting in my rice bowl.’