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The Forest of Vanishing Stars(28)

Author:Kristin Harmel

“Oh. Yona, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was her time. She lived to be one hundred two.”

“One hundred two?” His brow creased in confusion. “Surely not. People don’t live that long. And certainly not in the wilderness.”

Yona held his gaze. “She did.” She turned before he could ask more. How would she explain Jerusza? It was impossible.

“Well.” He cleared his throat, at a temporary loss for words. “Would you like to go see my people now, Yona?”

“No. Let’s catch some more fish first. Then we can feed them when we arrive.”

He nodded and busied himself with helping her to unspool and stake the gill net she had crafted the day before. As they waded into the water together, they were silent at first, concentrating on the placement of the mesh. But as they moved to the shore and Yona looked up, she found him studying the curves of her body. It made her stumble and blush. He looked away instantly and cleared his throat.

“You said you once lived outside the woods,” he said.

“Yes.”

“How long ago did you move into the forest?”

“I was only a little girl.” She could feel him watching her again as she looked west, where the sun set each night, where somewhere there was a family that belonged to her. “I hardly remember it.”

“But where did you—” he began.

“And you?” she interrupted before he could ask more questions she didn’t know how to answer. “Where are you from? You said you were a bookkeeper?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. I was raised in Mir, and my parents were very firm that my brothers and I would have good Jewish educations. In school, we learned Latin, Polish, physics, chemistry, history, religion of course, even psychology. But nothing prepared us for what was to come. When the Russians arrived, it was terrible. They took everything; we were suddenly very poor. And though there were some refugees from the west who told us about ghettos in Germany, we hardly believed it. We actually thought things would be better if the Germans drove the Soviets out. At least then, we thought, we could make some money. Who could have known that instead of money, they would bring death? Within just a few weeks of arriving, they had allied with the local police, and together they brought several prominent Jews from our town seven miles outside the forest and stoned them to death after forcing them to dig their own graves. It was a warning to all of us.”

The sunshine suddenly felt very cold. “Oh, Aleksander.”

“Can you imagine such a thing?” He seemed to be talking only to himself. “It was not so long ago that I had a good business, a life in front of me, family I loved. And now… now, all of it is gone. I fear that those who chose to remain in the ghetto will die, but what guarantee is there that we will survive?”

“There is no guarantee for any of us,” Yona said when she could finally find her voice. “But you will survive.” She swallowed, the taste of the impossible promise bitter in her mouth. “You will hide here in the forest, and you will learn how to find food and shelter, and you will live.”

“How can I believe such a thing?” he whispered.

She met his gaze. It was warm, and it seemed to penetrate her. No one had ever looked at her that way before, with a blend of gratitude, fear, and something else she couldn’t put a finger on. “Believe in me,” she said. “Believe that perhaps God has led me here to help you.”

He looked at her for a long time. “I think maybe I do believe that, Yona.”

And then, because her cheeks felt as if they were on fire, and because it felt as if his eyes were burning a hole right through her, she stood abruptly and turned away, heading for the stream. She had intended to check the net, but instead, the cool water greeted her, and she found herself wading upstream until the water was waist-deep. She took a deep breath and submerged herself. Only after she was beneath the surface did the heat flooding through her body finally disappear.

* * *

An hour later, her hair and clothes almost dry thanks to the relentless sun, Yona gathered another basketful of fish, and after packing up the net and handing it to Aleksander, she hoisted her rucksack on her back and made herself smile, though her heart was thudding in fear. This was it, the moment her life would change. What would his people think of her? How would they react? Would they want to cast her out, as Chana’s mother had, because she wasn’t one of them? She was lying when she took a deep breath and told Aleksander, “I’m ready.”

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