Lesia's Dream (16 page)

“Borrowing money means you must trust someone,” Ivan said. “We can trust no one. Not even other Ukrainians.”

“We can trust Andrew.”

“Yes, but if someone finds out he helped, he could be in trouble. Or we could lose our land.”

“That won't happen.”

“There are no guarantees, Lesia.” Ivan's smile was humourless. “Surely you know that by now.”

She was silent. A picture of nasty Minnie Korol slid into her mind.

“Without land,” Ivan said, “we are nothing.”

“Without food, we will starve!”

Ivan leaned close so Papa was out of earshot. “Borrow some shells from Andrew or Paul,” he whispered. “Make them promise to tell no one. At least then you can use the shotgun.”

It wasn't all she wanted, but it was a start. “As long as I can stay outside long enough to hunt,” she said. “It's so cold, my fingers and toes are almost always numb.”

“It won't take you long to catch something,” Ivan predicted. “They say the rabbits practically come up and beg to be shot in the cold weather. Sometimes prairie chickens too.” He turned to Papa. “As soon as this guard passes, I want you to bend down, pretend you're scratching your ankle and undo your boots.”

Papa nodded.

What was Ivan thinking? Lesia wondered.

“Then you'll stand beside Papa,” he said to her, staring down at the chunks of burlap she had wrapped around and around what was left of her old boots. “It doesn't look like you'll have any trouble slipping those off without bending over,” he said.

“Probably not,” Lesia admitted. “But why?”

Ivan didn't answer. The blue-eyed guard with the nasty smirk sauntered by. When they could see his back, Ivan spoke. “Now, Papa!” Papa bent over and went to work.

“You're going to need Papa's boots to get out in the snow,” Ivan explained. “They'll be big, but you can stuff them with rags. When you're not using them, Mama can.”

“What will Papa use?” Her father straightened. His boots were positioned inconspicuously behind him.

“Yours.”

Lesia's eyes widened. “There's nothing to them. Besides, they'll be too small.”

“They'll do for now,” her brother said. “When they see his boots are falling apart, maybe they'll find him another pair.” His lips twisted into a mirthless grin. “Or let him stay inside when the weather's at its worst.”

Watching carefully for guards, Lesia slowly worked the old burlap-wrapped boots off her feet. It was a long process, but eventually she was able to nudge them towards Papa. He, in turn, slid his boots to her. Once they were hidden under her skirt, she took her time sliding her feet into them. Finally, with Ivan shielding her, she bent over and did them up.

As she straightened, a bell started to ring. Several children began to cry. “Two more minutes,” yelled a barrel-chested guard with a brown moustache. “Two minutes!”

Ivan translated.
So soon?

Papa reached out and grabbed her hands. “Moye
sonechko, please know that I love you! I love all of you more than life itself.” His eyes filled and one lone tear trickled down his cheek. “Tell Mama I'm sorry for what has happened. Tell her I'll make it up to her when I get home. Tell her I love her. And …” His voice cracked. “And tell her I pray for her.” He turned to the wall.

Ivan reached for her hand. “Lesia, you know I've done some foolish things in my life. I've taken many risks. I know you're very brave and you feel great responsibility. I'm proud of what you've accomplished on the land. But whatever you do, do
not
borrow money from anyone.” His eyes tunnelled into her. “The safety of our land could depend on it.” He squeezed her hand. “Promise me?”

“It's time,” bellowed the same barrel-chested guard. “Please leave by the east doors. Leave by the east doors.”

“You must leave now.” Ivan said. “But first promise me!”

Lesia's heart sank to the bottom of her new boots. “I promise,” she said thickly.

She forced herself to leave without looking back. What was worse? she wondered as she followed a crying woman out the door. Making that horrible promise or wondering when—
if
—she would ever see Papa and Ivan again?

Pearl's house was warm with bodies and the rich smells of the Holy Eve feast. Tiny fingertips scratched away the frost as the children peered out the large front window and into the dark sky for a first glimpse of the beloved Star of Bethlehem. Not only would it signal the end of fasting and the start of feasting, but whoever saw it first would have good fortune for an entire year.

Lesia smiled as Sonia, her tiny shoulders quivering with excitement, gently pushed her way forward to take her place beside Victoria, Pearl's middle daughter.
If only I were that young again. If only I could believe in good fortune.

But she couldn't.

She cradled Adam in her arms and wished her
brother hadn't picked this time to fall peacefully asleep. A fussy baby would have left her no time to think about today's visit.

About Papa. Ivan. And her promise not to borrow money.

Bozhe, Bozhe! If only Papa had listened to reason. If only Ivan hadn't lost his fight and become so wary. If only Canada had welcomed them with open arms, instead of locking their men away like common criminals.

We are all equal in the eyes of God.
Baba's words echoed in her mind. Could Baba have been wrong?

“It is magical, is it not?” Mama stacked the braided kolachi on the table and centred a candle in the middle of the top loaf.

“It is,” Lesia agreed.

The table was laid with a layer of loose hay and a sparkling clean white cloth topped by a colourful embroidered one. There was more hay scattered on the floor. Farm tools were placed in the corners of the room to symbolize the importance of the land. Candles were everywhere, just waiting to be lit. And the air was thick with the savoury smells of the twelve meatless dishes Ukrainians everywhere consumed on the Holy Eve. Treasured dishes like kutia and pyrohy, borsch and holubtsi, stewed mushrooms and prune torte.

The room, the food, even the smells were all more elaborate and more beautiful than any Holy Eve the Magus family had celebrated in Shuparka. It made Lesia mad. And she felt guilty about her feelings.

Mama sighed. “If only Papa and Ivan were here.”

“They send their love,” Lesia said again.

Mama's cheeks were pale in the candlelight; her eyes were sad and defeated. She had been so sure Lesia would bring them back. “Have you told me everything, Lesia?”

“Everything,” she lied.

Intently, Mama studied Lesia's face. Satisfied with what she saw, she nodded and turned away.

She could tell Mama all about the camp itself, but she couldn't bring herself to tell her how terrible Papa looked. Instead, she'd said he was in fine health and full of good cheer.

Surely God would forgive her?

“The animals have been fed,” Paul boomed as he led Andrew and Wasyl through the front door. Cold flakes of white snow swirled about their feet.

“Good! Good!” Pearl tucked a sleeping Mary into the cradle. Ancient legend decreed that on this holiest of nights animals were given the gift of human speech and could complain or rejoice to God for the way in which their human owners treated them.
They were always fed some of the dehcacies first, as a reminder of their importance to the family.

“The didukh!” Anastasia exclaimed when she caught sight of her Uncle Andrew. The children watched as Andrew ceremoniously hung the large sheaf of wheat symbohzing the gathering of friends and family.

“To the family,” the men said.

“To the family,” the women and children repeated.

And then everyone hurried back to their appointed chores. The children to watch out the window. The women to dish up the food. And the men to wash for the upcoming feast.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Andrew stood so close his arm touched Adam's blanket. Lesia glanced nervously towards Minnie, who glared at them as though they were talking about her.

“I'm fine,” she whispered back. Andrew had known something was wrong the moment he had picked her up at the train station in Hazelridge. Wordlessly, he'd studied her white face. Wordlessly, he'd noticed the boots. But he'd said nothing about it until they were nearing Paul's homestead. Then he'd come right out and asked her about Papa.

Not Ivan. Papa. As though he'd known. Perhaps the boots had given it away.

That's when the lump had grown in Lesia's throat.
And it hadn't moved since. She hadn't lied to Andrew, but she hadn't told him the truth, either. How could she describe the pain she'd felt in seeing Papa so beaten down, the humiliation that scorched her soul when the guards treated them like dirt?

“I'm here if you want to talk,” he said.

“Maybe later. ‘The lump in her throat was so big it was hard to talk around it.

“The star!” Luka yelled. “I see it!”

“Me too!” exclaimed Sonia.

“And me!” said Symon.

Everyone began talking at once. Voices were raised in excitement.

Could Papa and Ivan see the star? Lesia wondered. Did they have a window from which to observe the night sky? And did the guards understand their men still deserved to celebrate the holiest of nights?

Through a blur of tears, Lesia could see Paul holding up his hand. “Christ is born!” he said reverently.

“Khrystos rodyvsia!” everyone repeated.

A lone tear snaked its way down her cheek.

“Let us glorify him,” Paul said.

“SlavimYoho!” everyone echoed.

“Come,” Paul urged, “be seated while I light the candles.”

Swiftly, before anyone could see, Andrew reached out and wiped the tear away. “Be brave,” he said quietly.

Lesia wasn't sure what made her more uncomfortable, Andrew's touch or the fact that he seemed to know what she was thinking. She put Adam in the makeshift cradle beside Mary, took her place beside Wasyl and waited for Paul to recite the prayer.

“Dearest Lord in Heaven, we thank you for our many blessings. We are grateful for our harvest, for the health of our family and for the food we are about to eat. We are grateful, too, for the new friends you have led to us, Wasyl Goetz and the Magus family, all of whom are here with us tonight.”

Not
all,
Lesia thought.

“Dearest God Almighty,” Paul continued,” we say a special prayer for Gregory and Ivan Magus. We know they are with us in spirit and we pray that they are returned to us quickly and safely.”

Lesia wouldn't look at the empty seat that loomed at one end of the table. It served as a reminder that even though the men were not there in body, they were there in spirit. It was also there for Baba, to encourage her spirit to come down from Heaven and join them in celebration.

“Finally, Lord, in this year of political turmoil, we pray for peace. For our family, for Canada and most especially for our homeland, Ukraine. We ask that your love and spirit guide all of those in positions of authority as we await an end to this conflict. Amen.”

“Amen,” everyone repeated.

Pearl stood. Ceremoniously, she waved a long stick of grey incense over the food in blessing. Its exotic scent wafted across the table. Reverently, she put it aside and sat down.

Then Paul stood. The children were wide-eyed. They giggled in anticipation. He reached for a handful of kutia, the luscious sweet of boiled wheat, poppy seeds and honey. His eyes twinkled. He raised his hand and threw it at the ceding. It stuck! Everyone began to laugh and clap. The gesture ensured good luck and a healthy harvest for the coming year. With that taken care of, the babbling began.

“It smells wonderful!”

“I want extra nuts.”

“I don't want kutia, I want jellied fish instead.”

“In time. In time.”

“I'm starving,” Minnie said.

Lesia watched and listened as the kutia was ceremoniously passed around.
Starving?
She shot a sideways glance in Minnie's direction.
She
hadn't known a day of starvation in her life.

Not like the rest of them.

Beside her, Wasyl tapped his glass with a spoon. “To our hosts!” he said.” Thank you for including us in your Christmas festivities.”

Lesia raised her glass along with the rest of them,
but she wouldn't meet Wasyl's eyes. Looking at him was a reminder that he'd got away. And Ivan hadn't.

“Do you like them?” Wasyl whispered in Lesia's ear, gesturing to the tall goblets. The cut-crystal stems gleamed in the candlelight.

She held one in the palm of her hand and pretended great interest in the way it was shaped. “It's very nice.” Slowly she put it back down. In fact, it was beyond nice. It was the kind of thing that had been locked away at Master Stryk's estate.

“I bought them.” Wasyl's voice was loud, boastful.

“Pardon?” She turned to him in surprise. Gifts were often exchanged at Christmas, but nothing so elaborate. She thought of the belts she had woven for Andrew and Pearl. They looked like nothing beside the crystal.

He grinned and stuck out his chest. “I bought them for Paul.”

“And for the rest of us, I hope,” Minnie pouted. Lesia had noticed with amusement that she'd rushed to grab the seat on the other side of Wasyl. As far as she was concerned, the two of them could have each other.

“Of course,” he said gallantly. “Nothing is too good for your family, especially your father. He's been a tremendous help to me.”

“I've seen you three having great long conversations
in the barn. Don't you get cold?” Minnie teased.

“Cold is the least of our problems.” Wasyl passed the kutia to Lesia. “Thank the Lord for your father. He's made some very helpful suggestions about getting along in Canada.”