He searched her eyes, nodded, and gave her a small smile in return. “Shall we go?”
They walked for the first thirty minutes in comfortable silence. Aleksander seemed to understand that Yona would need the solitude for a short time, at least, before her world opened up.
“Who is with you?” she asked abruptly as they paused to trudge through the shallow water of a stream. Dozens of tiny fish darted away from their footfalls, a silver starburst of fear beneath the surface. “In your camp, I mean.”
“You’re trying to prepare yourself.”
“I suppose I am.”
“Don’t be afraid, Yona. They will all be as grateful as I am.” He gave her a small smile. “Well, you’ve met Leib. His mother is with us, too. Miriam. She’s a kind woman, but her eyes are empty now; the rest of her family—Leib’s father, her two younger children—were killed. She—she seems in a trance sometimes, like she is somewhere else.”
“I’m so sorry,” Yona said, and Aleksander extended a hand to help her out of the stream. She didn’t need it, but she took it anyhow, liking the way his fingers laced with hers, the strength of them, but also his gentleness. She didn’t want to let go, but she did, for what use was holding hands on solid ground?
“Oscher and Bina are husband and wife,” he went on as they began walking through the trees again. “It’s a miracle they survived together, both with their relative health, though Oscher has a limp that slows him down. They are grandparents, but their children and grandchildren are all gone. Murdered.” His tone was flat, empty. “Every one. Six children. Thirteen grandchildren.”
He paused for a second, and in the space between his words, Yona tried to comprehend two whole generations snuffed out, an entire future halted before it had begun, a familial legacy that would never be.
“Moshe is the tailor I mentioned, an old man, older than my father was. Sulia is twenty-five or so. Her older brother was friends with mine a lifetime ago, so I’ve known her since she was small. Ruth is around the same age, and she has three young children with her: Pessia, Leah, and a little boy, Daniel, just a baby. Her husband died last year, shot while Ruth and the children were out of the home, visiting her mother. There’s Luba, who is in her sixties, and Leon, who is seventy. They both recently lost their spouses to the Nazis, and they talk little, but they help with the cooking, the construction of our shelters. Leon, he was a shoemaker once, and so he helps to mend our boots. And then there is Rosalia. She has been helping Leib and me stand guard at night. I don’t know much about her, but she is resilient, tough.” He paused and glanced sideways at Yona. “You will like her, too, I think.”
Yona felt uneasy. It was jarring to hear the names of the people she had vowed to take responsibility for. These were human beings who were being hunted, people who had already lost incomprehensible things. And the majority were older people and children, the two hardest groups to keep alive in the forest. “How old are the children?”
“Pessia is four, I think, and Leah is a year younger. Daniel is perhaps a year old, maybe less.”
Yona nodded, taking this in. “And Oscher’s limp? It is serious?”
Aleksander sighed. “When we were leaving the ghetto, I had Leib lead the rest into the forest. I stayed behind with Oscher and followed at a slower pace. He couldn’t keep up. But he tries, Yona. And he’s one of us.”
Again she nodded. It was another problem. If the group had to move their camp in a hurry, he would hold them back. But Jerusza had been the same at the end, and Yona had simply become more cautious, more observant of her surroundings, more attuned to danger. She would teach Aleksander to do the same with Oscher.
“Is there anything else? Anyone who might be a problem if you need to move quickly?”
Aleksander thought about this for a moment. “Ruth’s children are slow, but they’re small. Leib and Rosalia carried the girls when we fled the ghetto and Ruth carried the baby. They made good time.”
“All right.”
They were both quiet for a while before Aleksander spoke again. “You don’t have to come with me, Yona, if you don’t want. I know this must be a lot for you.”
“It is.” Yona glanced skyward, where a flock of crows had just lifted off. “But perhaps God gives us the answers before we know what the questions will be. Perhaps I was meant to help you, if I can.”
He accepted this in silence, and when he finally answered, his voice was choked. “Thank you, Yona,” he said, and when his eyes met hers, they were damp with gratitude and pain.