City of Fate (18 page)

Vlad may have been ignorant about his lack of
popularity
in the group, but Leo wasn't. In those precious hours of temporary peace, when the guns had stopped firing to allow both sides to bury their dead, shave and grab a bite to eat, Leo sensed the dubious atmosphere in their
battletorn
apartment block. Even in the midst of war and utter chaos, he couldn't help noticing that their ‘home' was like any other, containing a family, of sorts, of different people who did not actually choose their house-mates. He did not
need to hear what the others were thinking to recognise that there was an invisible fence around himself and Vlad. Not that it bothered him. A sensitive boy he might be, but he was made of stern stuff that gave him a quiet confidence. As a budding musician with little interest in football, he'd always had to fight his corner.

Without realising it themselves, Vlad, poor Misha and, yes, even Anton, would have been aware of this sureness he had, and they all hoped, without knowing it, that they might have some for themselves. When Anton and his little band of restless tyrants scouted around for some boy to harass, they would almost coo in delight when they'd come across a
solitary
figure walking toward them. On discovering, however, it was Leo, the chase would be immediately cancelled. It was simply due to the fact that Leo would never consider himself to be a victim … and so he never was.

Vlad might have assumed he was like his best friend, but he would have been mistaken. He shared none of Leo's
self-confidence
, although he did his best to hide this fact. Yes, he was sensitive in his own way but only about what other people thought of him. Unlike Leo, Vlad yearned to be liked by anyone he met.

Anton strode over to the battered phonograph and put on the one piece of music they had, for the umpteenth time. The record was badly scratched making the needle jump a little, jolting the melody along faster than the orchestra was
playing it. Consequently, it was unpleasant on the ears,
particularly
the ears of a talented musician.

Leo kept his head down, to hide his gritted teeth, and fiercely gripped his pen, pretending it was Anton's head and he was squashing it flat. He was so enjoying his little fantasy that he hardly heard the shout:

‘Tanks! They're aiming straight at us!'

Both Anton and Sergeant Pavlov leapt towards the window.

Anton sounded impressed. ‘Well, I'll be …!'

Sure enough, four German panzers had taken up
position
about seventy feet away from them, the guns
pointing
directly into their building. Behind the steel giants were about twenty-five soldiers on foot, rifles at the ready.

The sergeant clapped his hands with glee. ‘Okay, lads, we're in business.' His men looked at him eagerly. ‘Right, you lot down to the basement with the machine guns. Wait for my command!'

There was a resounding ‘Yes, sir!' as the older men turned and clambered downstairs, leaving Vlad, Leo and Anton
waiting
their turn.

The sergeant made for the stairs and shouted, ‘Come on, we're going upstairs. Anton, grab the anti-tank rifle. Fast as you can!'

The three boys, anxious to do their utmost, followed him closely, dodging the large gaps in the walls, to avoid the snipers. Anton hugged his precious cargo; it was their last
anti-tank gun. No other gun was able to stop a tank. On reaching the fourth floor, Sergeant Pavlov told Anton and Vlad to be ready to put the rifle in place. They didn't need to be told twice, although Vlad was bewildered by the smile on his sergeant's face. Surely, this could only end badly: four tanks against a bunch of men with a few weapons, even if one of the weapons was an anti-tank rifle. It wasn't enough.

‘What now, sir?' asked Leo.

Sergeant Pavlov replied, ‘Why, we let them show us what they're made of.'

Only Anton seemed comforted by this. As they watched, one of the tanks launched a shell which whizzed straight through the air, with deadly precision, until it reached its final destination. There was a crash from the empty floor, two stories below.

‘Ha!' bawled the sergeant. ‘And that's all they can do!'

The tank's three companions responded in kind and the second storey took quite a battering. Of course the noise was dreadful, the boys' teeth vibrated in their gums while Leo wondered how the poor building withstood the pounding, but it did.

Pavlov gestured at the rifle, ‘Quick, get it up on the window ledge and fire when ready.'

Anton heaved the gun upwards, hardly needing any help from Vlad. ‘Which one should I aim for?' In his excitement he dropped the ‘sir'.

Sergeant Pavlov shouted, ‘Whichever one you want. Just make it a perfect hit.'

As Anton chose his target, the sergeant declared, ‘The tanks are too close to hurt us. They can't raise the gun to reach us up here nor lower them to touch our comrades below.'

Now that Vlad understood Sergeant Pavlov's cheerfulness, he allowed himself to relax, just a little.

Meanwhile, Anton was ready. Every inch of his body was ready. This was his moment of glory, at last. His two
classmates
watched their attackers as Anton pulled the trigger … and released it. BOOM! All it took was one well-aimed shot. The tank on the far right shuddered and its gun went quiet. As soon as it did, Pavlov, who must have been expecting this sudden conclusion, roared down to the basement, ‘FIRE!' Shots rang out in quick succession. To the boys' surprise, the other three tanks ceased firing. The German infantry men scattered at the sound of the machine guns while the tanks awkwardly swung themselves around, bumping against one another, and took off in full retreat around the nearest corner. The attack was over minutes after it had begun.

Leo giggled in disbelief. ‘That's it?'

Sergeant Pavlov winked. ‘Yep. That's it for now, anyway. They must have thought we were out of ammunition.'

He headed for the stairs, shouting to the others to stop firing, to save on bullets. Vlad and Leo turned to Anton, with genuine smiles of congratulation.

Vlad thumped him on the arm. ‘Well, Anton. You did it. What a great shot!'

Instead of his usual condescending manner, Anton squirmed under their gaze. He took the gun down from the ledge and let it hang limply by his side.

Leo was intrigued, ‘What's the matter?'

Anton pouted and shrugged simultaneously. ‘I was aiming for the tank on the left.' He continued to pout while the other two laughed and laughed.

MRS KARMANOVA GOES SHOPPING

Y
uri opened his eyes, believing that Anna was sitting on his lap, having plainly heard her giggle, while catching a whiff of the soap that his mother bought especially for a baby’s dimpled skin. His hands were around her waist, making sure she didn’t fall. He felt the crease of her bunched-up dress, the soft padding of her nappy, and the pull of her body as she leant fearlessly forward to try and dive to the floor.

He quickly closed his eyes and opened them again, and she was gone. Just like that.

A few minutes passed before he was able to sit up. He
felt dreadfully cold and utterly hollowed out.
Why? Why?
As soon as the shock slid away, the tears streamed forth.

Peter suddenly appeared beside him. He bent down,
clumsily
placing his arms around his friend, as far as they would stretch, as Yuri sobbed into the crook of his mucky little neck.

‘She’s gone, isn’t she?’ murmured Mrs Karmanova from the other side of the room.

In his confused state Yuri thought she was talking about Anna. ‘Y-yes …,’ he stammered, as he gently released Peter’s arms back to him, gesturing that he was okay now. ‘I just had a bad dream,’ he said. Peter nodded slowly, as if he was a doctor taking care of a difficult patient.

‘I thought as much. I knew she’d leave me in the end.’

Yuri realised that Mrs Karmanova was talking about Tanya and rushed to assure her. ‘She’s working a double shift!’ But it was too late.

‘Who is he?’

He stared at the old woman who sat on a stool facing him. Her face, a mess of wrinkles and lines that he had never noticed before, watched him patiently. Unsure of how to reply, he marvelled at the woman’s intuition as he opened his mouth and confessed, ‘A soldier …’

She sniffed and said, ‘No surprise there. Where is she gone?’

Helpless to do anything but admit the truth, Yuri
murmured
, ‘Germany’. He waited for another question, but there wasn’t one.

Instead, Tanya’s mother stood up and patted herself down. It was only then that Yuri saw the shopping bag in her hand.

Even Peter looked on in wonder at the sight of Mrs
Karmanova
shuffling towards the shattered wall that provided the way out onto the broken street outside. Peter clutched Yuri’s arm, bringing him back to his senses.

‘Mrs Karmanova, what are you doing?’ Yuri found his voice was high and breathless with anxiety.

‘I’m going out to get some eggs!’

Gently pushing Peter aside, Yuri jumped up and ran after her, catching her bag as she went to step forward again. She turned quickly to face him, an expression of perfect
bewilderment
on her face. ‘What’s wrong with you, child?’

‘Nothing, I mean, I’m sorry for grabbing your bag but where are you going?’

Looking around the basement in an exasperated manner, she said, ‘I told you. I’m going for eggs.’

‘But … you can’t go outside.’

Mrs Karmanova’s eyes narrowed, and Yuri found himself facing a very angry woman indeed. ‘And who do you think you are, boy, to tell me what I can’t do?’

Yuri cursed Tanya inwardly with every swear word he knew. In sheer desperation he begged her mother to explain herself to him, ‘Please, Mrs Karmanova, you haven’t gone mad, have you?’

She stared at him as if she firmly believed that he was
the one who was mad.

Yuri knew he was babbling but he had to keep talking, ‘It’s just that I don’t know what to do if you are. I really don’t. I’m sorry.’

Suddenly, his cheek was stinging where she had slapped him with the open palm of her hand. He hadn’t seen her move and would never have expected her to have that much strength. Dazed, he rubbed his face.

‘Yuri …?’ Peter sounded upset.

‘It’s okay, Peter. It didn’t hurt. Mrs Karmanova is just
playing
with me because I won’t let go of her bag. That’s all.’ Yuri did his best to sound like he believed what he was saying, for all their sakes.

Tanya’s mother stood still, hardly seeming to breathe.

Yuri smiled at her. Why, he couldn’t have said; it just seemed like the easiest thing to do. In fact, he felt like
laughing
his head off when Peter asked in a shaky voice, ‘But, is she mad, Yuri? Is she?’

Hoping that Mrs Karmanova would answer Peter’s
question
, he continued smiling at the old woman until his face began to ache. How many muscles were used for a smile? Yuri was sure that his stepfather had told him once, but he couldn’t remember.

Peter slowed approached Mrs Karmanova, gawking at her as if she was some exotic creature he had never seen before. Yuri was about to tell him to leave her alone when the little
boy took her hand and said, ‘I can help carry the eggs?’

Yuri snapped, ‘There are no eggs! You know there aren’t. Yes, it would be lovely if we could all go out and fetch a box of eggs from somewhere, but we can’t, because there are none.’ His head throbbed and he longed to lie back down again.

Peter pouted. ‘Then, I can help her carry whatever she gets. I don’t even like eggs anyway!’

Yuri’s mouth opened and the words spurted out, ‘Well, isn’t that just great! And what if we could get eggs, what if they were the only food we could find, and there was
nothing
else to eat? Is that what you would say, that you don’t like them. I bet you’ve never even had one!’

Peter was shocked at the cruel accusation. ‘Oh yes I did! I had one when I was four and it was horrible.’

Yuri was about to ask for a more detailed description of his egg experience when a strange half-choking sound silenced him. What on earth was it? Before he could decide what to do, Mrs Karmanova bent over, as if she was going to tie her shoe laces, only she wasn’t wearing laces. Her body shook as the choking sound erupted into a guffaw of laughter – at least, Yuri hoped that’s what it was. As if she could read his mind, Mrs Karmanova wiped the tears out of her eyes and said, ‘Don’t you worry about me, pet. I’m not mad, not really anyway. For a minute I thought I was but you pair have given me exactly what I needed.’

Peter, longing to understand what he had done, asked, ‘What did we give you?’ His little face gazing up at her set her off again.

So, hoping he was right, Yuri said, ‘We made her laugh?’

Tanya’s mother answered his questioning look with a
definite
nod of her head.

In one of his inquisitive moods, Peter was determined to know more. ‘But, why did you need to laugh?’

Mrs Karmanova sighed. ‘Because, my dear child, if I didn’t laugh, I’d cry. Don’t you prefer to laugh instead of cry?’

Peter quickly nodded his head, declaring to all, ‘I love laughing. Ha! Ha! Ha!’

‘Hmmm,’ Yuri couldn’t help saying, ‘of course you do; it’s just eggs that you hate.’

Mrs Karmanova flung her hands in the air saying, ‘Oh, don’t start me off again, Yuri, otherwise I’ll never stop.’

It made Yuri feel all warm inside; when was the last time he had made someone laugh?

The sound of shooting in the distance was an unwelcome intruder into the fun. Mrs Karmanova tilted her head slightly to listen to the cracks and rat-a-tat-tat of the guns, asking, ‘How far away are they?’

It was almost impossible to guess. Snow had fallen in the last few days which helped to make the sounds seem a lot farther away than they actually were. Yuri sighed. ‘I’m not sure. It could be two or three blocks?’ He paused. ‘Though,
I can’t hear any footsteps or voices, so maybe it’s more than that.’

‘Good enough!’ she said, and smoothed her hair down. ‘Well, boys, how do I look?’

Peter chirruped, ‘Very nice!’

Noting the worried expression on the older boy’s face, she put her hands on his shoulders and said, ‘Okay, Yuri, this is how it is. We need food and it isn’t right that we all just rely on you.’

Yuri shook his head slowly in protest but she was taking charge now. ‘No, listen to me. I want you to go back to bed. You look like you’re about to fall down from exhaustion.’

He couldn’t argue with this, a wave of dizziness passed through him, making it seem like the walls had bubbled up for a second or two.

‘You are skin and bone. So, I’m going to go out today to find food. I swear I need to get out of this basement for a bit or I certainly will go mad. The dirt and dust are getting on my nerves.’

‘But it’s worse outside!’ Peter felt it only proper to prepare her for the wrecked streets.

It all sounded wonderful to Yuri; however he couldn’t give up just yet, ‘Where will you go?’

Mrs Karmanova seemed confident about her
food-hunting
plan. ‘I’m going to go to Tanya’s factory to tell them that she needs food in order to work. They must be living on
something down there.’

Yuri wanted very much to believe it was simple as that. ‘Do you think?’

She clapped her hands together. ‘But, of course. Our tank-makers cannot be allowed to starve, their work is too important.’

‘Can I come?’ Peter was excited about getting out for a walk, and food.

The merest shadow flickered briefly over the old woman’s face. ‘Shouldn’t you stay here and look after Yuri?’

To be fair to him, Peter did look guilty as he quickly decided how much he would rather go outside with Mrs Karmanova than stay put with his friend.

Meanwhile, Yuri was torn between wanting someone else to take charge, only wishing that it was someone other than Mrs Karmanova. As lovely as the last few minutes had been, he could not forget that this woman, as long as he had known her, had seemed much more of a helpless baby than Peter. After all, they had been brought in to mind her. His heart lurched as he remembered Tanya telling him her story and trusting him with it, along with everything else.
How can I let her mother go off by herself? Tanya would never agree to this? But, then, hasn’t she gone and left her behind in the middle of a war, with just Peter and me to take care of her? Could I have done that to my mother? Walked away from her and Anna to go to a foreign city because it promised peace? Then again Mama walked away
from me. So, what does that mean?

‘Why does everyone keep leaving me behind?’ He hadn’t meant to say this last bit out loud.

Peter was on to him like a leech. ‘What, Yuri? What did you say?’

‘Don’t say “what”, say “pardon”’, Yuri muttered, without thinking.

‘Sorry!’ said Peter agreeably, before beginning again. ‘Pardon, Yuri? Pardon, what did you say?’

However, his friend only shook his head and lied, ‘
Nothing
, it was nothing.’

Usually this sort of answer would have only made Peter more persistent, but there was no doubting that Yuri looked unwell. Peter stared glumly at him while Mrs Karmanova shoved him in the direction of the blankets. It was extremely cold. Yuri’s teeth chattered as he tried to make a decision that was no longer his to make.

‘Yuri,’ said Mrs Karmanova, ‘go lie down. I’ll take Peter with me. I want to find us a few more blankets as well as food and I’ll keep a look out for some warm clothes too.’

Yuri was incredulous; did she not have the slightest idea of how bad things were outside? There was nothing to be found anywhere. ‘But, Mrs Karmanova, you have to be
careful
. The Germans, the Nazis, are everywhere.’

She shrugged. ‘Don’t I know that! How many hours have I sat here listening to them shoot our people? What would
they want with an old woman like me? I can do nothing either for or against them.’

Her words unsettled him as he remembered the old woman, Maria, who had been shot for delivering soup. She and her sisters had thought the same thing, that her old age would protect her. ‘But they do. I mean, they already shot an old woman that …’

Mrs Karmanova waved a hand at him. ‘They won’t shoot a woman with a child. Now, not another word, we’re wasting precious time!’

Yuri accepted her statement because he needed to, in order to rest. He might have mentioned about babies and children being shot, but somehow he had managed to forget what had happened at the orphanage. He had one more thing to say and it was to Peter, ‘Stay right beside Mrs Karmanova, and you are not to go and see the children playing today. I’m the only one who knows where they are.’

Mrs Karmanova looked puzzled so he explained, ‘There is a statue of children laughing and dancing. He likes to visit it but it’s in a dangerous place, opposite the train station.’

She nodded. ‘Ah, yes, I’ve seen it many times. Lovely it is too. But, yes, we won’t be visiting that today. It’s too far away for my poor legs.’

Peter was hurt. ‘I wasn’t going to visit it. I didn’t say
anything
about it. I just wanted to go for a walk.’ His big, brown eyes were full of reproach.

Yuri recognised the signs. If he laughed at the boy now, there might be tears, so he didn’t. Instead, he apologised, ‘Sorry, Peter. It was just in case you were thinking about it. I know how much you love it. So, you’ll be a good boy for Mrs Karmanova?’

Peter nodded in silence, punishing Yuri for his lack of faith in him.

Determined to part on a friendly note, Yuri reminded him to look out for special stones. Over the last few weeks, Yuri had come up with the idea of collecting stones and pebbles that they could pretend were little animals. It was something for Peter to do when they were out trying to find food, and the stones had become toys to play with at ‘home’. So far there were five cows, two horses, one wobbly-looking farmer and three tiny glistening hens, which were really splinters of coloured glass. Yuri was quite proud of his idea. It was the one thing that Stalingrad had plenty of, bits of stones and rocks. He found himself becoming more involved than he had expected to. For instance, some nights, when he couldn’t sleep, he would think about finding crayons or paint to colour the stones to make them look more realistic.