As the one called Aleksander stepped once more from the shallow stream, shaking the water off, Yona could see, even from a distance, that his expression had sobered. She didn’t believe the smile he forced as he turned back to Leib. “I’ll take care of it, Leib. All will be well.”
Yona watched in silence as Leib walked away, shoulders slumped. As she turned her gaze back to Aleksander, she was surprised to hear him begin to pray softly, asking first if God was there and then telling the sky that he would give anything for a little luck, a little food. “They’re counting on me,” he concluded, his voice mournful as he looked to the water once more.
Yona wanted nothing more in that moment than to step from the trees and be the answer to his prayer, the proof that after whatever terrible things he had endured to bring him here, there was a God after all. But who was she to think she could save anyone from the darkness? She had failed with Chana’s family. She’d likely been wrong to try to help them in the first place; hadn’t Jerusza always taught her that she was better off alone? Then again, how could she ignore the pull of her heart, the part of her that couldn’t turn away from a person in need? What if Jerusza’s path hadn’t been the right one? Who was the old woman to still be pulling the strings of Yona’s life?
The man called Aleksander dove thrice more into the water, trying to catch fish with his bare hands, before finally sitting down hard on the streambank with a heavy sigh. His back was to Yona, and she could see the tension knotting it through his wet shirt. Water dripped from his hair onto his collar, and as he reached up to scratch his head, he let out an almost inhuman moan of despair. “My God, what will I do?”
“I—I can help.” Yona heard her own voice before she had actually formed the intent to reveal herself. She spoke in Yiddish, because it was the language the man had been speaking moments before. The man scrambled to his feet at once and turned, searching the forest for the source of the sound before his gaze settled on her.
He blinked a few times, confusion washing over his features, as she forced herself to step from the trees. There was no turning back now. They regarded each other for a few long seconds. She could feel her heart thudding against her rib cage.
“Amkha?” he asked after a moment, his expression wary, uncertain.
It was a Hebrew word, one that roughly meant “the nation of people.” He was asking if she was one of them, a fellow Jew, but the question was the one that had been tormenting her, the one she couldn’t answer, so she merely shrugged.
“Where did you come from?” he asked at last.
She hesitated. This was a mistake. His friend would return at any moment, and then what? But in an instant, she saw Chana’s face in her mind’s eye and she felt the weight of her failure. She couldn’t turn away, not again. “I come from the forest,” she said simply.
A small smile pulled at the left corner of his lips. “I see that. I meant to ask where you came from before that.”
“The forest,” she repeated, and she watched as his brow creased.
“The forest.” He scratched his head. “But you speak Yiddish.” She could see him trying to puzzle her out.
“You do, too,” she replied, but offered no explanation. “You need help.”
“I—” He started and stopped. “I have people to feed. People who are relying on me. I—I was only a bookkeeper before this. If you need me to run some numbers for you, no problem, but surviving in the woods…” He forced a smile, seemingly trying to make the moment feel lighter, but his eyes gave him away, and finally, his gaze fell. “You see, they need me, and I don’t know what to do.”
She nodded. They stared at each other for a long time, and then Yona took a deep breath and started forward, her blood pulsing hot through her veins. “You are trying to grab the pike because they are larger, but that’s difficult using only your hands. There are dace in the water, too, very small fish, plenty of them, much easier to catch. You just need to know how.”
He studied her as she came closer, so close that she could feel the way his presence rippled the air between them. The current made her want to run away, but it also made her want to draw closer. Paralyzed, she stood frozen in place. “Who are you?” he asked softly, looking down at her.
It was a simple question, but it stilled her for a moment. How could she reply when she didn’t know the answer herself? So she let her eyes slide away. “I am the person who will help you feed your people tonight. All right?”