They stared at each other. She wanted to tell him she was grateful to be able to look into his face but didn’t have the energy. Nodding, she turned to walk up the stairs. Alexander remained at the bottom. She slipped on the second step and stumbled backward. Putting his hands out, Alexander caught her, straightening her up. She grabbed on to the railing and then turned around to him. Something resembling a smile passed over her face. “I really am all right without you,” she said. “I can manage.”

“What about the ravenous boys who follow you home?”

Tatiana warmed her eyes, so she could look at him with the truth that was inside her. “I really am not all right without you,” she said. “I can’t manage.”

“I know,” Alexander said. “Hold on to the rail.”

Slowly Tatiana walked up the slippery stairs. At the top she turned around to see if Alexander was still there. He was, looking up at her. She pressed her gloved hand to her lips.



The morning after the post office Dasha could not get up. “Dasha, please.”

“I can’t. You go.”

“Of course I will go, but, Dasha, I don’t want to go by myself. Alexander is not here.”

“No, he’s not.”

Tatiana fixed the blankets and coats on top of her. Even as she begged Dasha to get up, Tatiana knew that her sister wasn’t going anywhere. Dasha’s eyes were closed, and she was lying in the same position in which she had fallen asleep the night before. Dasha had also been very quiet the night before. Very quiet except for a cough. “Please get up. You need to get up.”

“I’ll get up later,” said Dasha. “I just can’t right now.” Her eyes were closed.

Tatiana went to fetch water from downstairs. That took her an hour. She lit the fire in the bourzhuika, putting a chair leg in it, and when the fire was started, she made Dasha some tea.

After she had fed Dasha small spoonfuls of the barely brown, barely sweet liquid, she left by herself to go to the ration store. It was ten in the morning but still dark. At eleven it would be light, Tatiana thought. When I’m coming back with the bread it will be light. “Give us this day our daily bread,” she whispered to herself. I wish I had known that earlier. I could have said that prayer every day since September.



It’s dark all the time now. Was it late? Was it early? Was it evening or night? She looked at the alarm clock. She couldn’t make out the hands in the dark. I don’t see light. In the morning it’s dark, and when I drag the bucket of water up the stairs, it’s dark, and when I wash Dasha’s face and go to the store and the bombs fly, it’s dark. Then a building explodes and burns brightly, and I can go and stand in front of it and warm up a bit. The fire reddens my face, and I stand — for how long? Well, today, I stood until around noon. I didn’t get to the hospital until one. Tomorrow maybe I can go and find another fire somewhere. But at home it’s dark. Alexander’s oil and wick in the little plate help, I can sit and look at a book, maybe, or at Dasha’s face.

Dasha — why is she staring at me like that? She has not been herself for five days. She hasn’t gotten out of bed for the last three. Her eyes are darker — what’s in them? She is staring as if she doesn’t know who I am.

“Dasha? What’s the matter?”

Dasha staring, not replying. Not moving.

“Dasha!”

“What are you screaming at?” Dasha said quietly.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Come here.”

Tatiana came and kneeled by Dasha’s face. “What, honey?” she said. “What can I get you?”

“Where is Alexander?”

“I don’t know. Up in Ladoga?”

“When is he coming back?”

“Don’t know. Maybe tomorrow?”

Dasha staring.

“What’s the matter?” Tatiana asked.

“Do you want me to die?”

“What?” Even in her own half-extinguished life, Tatiana was aghast. “Of course not. You’re my sister. We all need a second person to remain human, Dasha, you know that.”

“I know that.”

“So what’s the matter?”

“You’re my second person, Tania.”

“Yes.”

“But who is yours?” whispered Dasha.

There it is.

Tatiana blinked. “You,” she said. Inaudibly.


ACROSS THAT FORMIDABLE SEA

I saw you, Tatiana,” said Dasha in the darkness. “I saw you and him together.”

“What are you talking about?” Tatiana’s heart stopped.

“I saw you. You didn’t know I was watching you. But I saw you five days ago at the post office.”

“What post office?”

“You went to the post office.”

Tatiana, kneeling by Dasha’s head, thought back. Post office, post office. What happened at the post office? She could not remember. “You know we went to the post office. We told you we were going.”

“I’m not talking about that. He goes with you everywhere.”

“He goes to protect us.”

“Not us.”

“Yes, Dasha, us. He is very worried about us. You know why he goes with me. Did you forget about the food he brings us?”

“I’m not talking about any of that,” Dasha said.

“Because of him, no one takes our bread. No one takes our ration cards. How do you think I’ve fed you? He has kept the cannibals from me.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

But Tatiana did. “Dasha, he brings me bread from dead soldiers to give to you, and when he can’t find that, he gives me half of his ration to give to you.”

“Tatiana, he brings it to you so you will love him.”

Stunned, Tatiana said, “What?” Recovering quickly, she said, “Wrong again. He gives it to you so you will live.”

“Oh, Tania.”

“Oh, Tania, nothing. Why did you follow me to the post office?”

“I felt guilty for not writing to Babushka. She looks forward to my notes. You are too depressing for her. You just can’t hide the truth like I can. Or so I thought,” Dasha said. “I wrote her a cheery note. I didn’t follow you. I saw you already at the post office.”

“We went to the store first.”

Tatiana got up to put another chair leg in the fire. The chair leg wasn’t going to last all night, but they had to ration themselves. When Alexander sawed up the table for them, Tatiana didn’t realize how much they wanted to be warm. The whole table was gone. Four chairs remained.

When Alexander brought them food, Tatiana didn’t realize how much they wanted to be full. The potatoes were gone. The oranges were gone. Only a bit of the barley remained.

When Tatiana came back to bed, she pulled the blankets and coats higher over Dasha and climbed in herself, wanting to turn to the wall. She didn’t.

They didn’t speak for a few minutes. Dasha slowly turned around to face Tatiana. “I want him to die at the front,” she whispered.

“Don’t say that,” said Tatiana, wanting to cross herself but unable to lift her cold arm out of the warm blanket. She was too weak for inflection. Soon the fire would go out. They would be plunged into black again. They were both spent and done. Tatiana thought they were too weak for heartbreak.

But when Dasha said, “I saw you and him, I saw the way you looked at each other,” Tatiana realized, no, they weren’t too weak.

“Dashenka, what are you talking about? There was no look. My hat was covering half my face. I don’t even know what you mean.”

“He stood at the bottom of the stairs. You stood two steps up. He stopped you from tripping on the ice. He said something to you, and you looked down and nodded. And then you looked at each other. You walked up the stairs. He stood at the bottom and watched you. I saw it all.”

“Dasha, darling, you’re worrying yourself over nothing.”

“Am I? Tania, tell me, how long have I been completely blind?”

Shaking her head in the night, Tatiana whispered, “No.”

“Have I been blind from the very beginning? From the day I walked into the room and saw him standing in front of you? Since then and through all the days that followed? Oh, God, tell me!”

“You’re crazy.”

“Tania, I may have been blind, but I’m not stupid. What do you think, I can’t tell? I have never seen that look in his eyes. He watched you go up the stairs with such longing, such tenderness, such possessiveness, such love, I turned away and would have thrown up in the snow had I had something to throw up.”

Weakly, Tatiana repeated, “You’re wrong.”

“Am I? And when you were looking at him at the post office, what was in your eyes, sister?”

“I don’t know anything about the post office. He walked me there. We said good-bye. I walked up. Good-bye was in my eyes.”

“It wasn’t good-bye, Tania.”

“Dasha, stop. I’m your sister.”

“Yes, but he owes me nothing.”

“He is just protective over me—”

“Not protective, Tania. Consumed.”

“No.”

“Have you been with him?”

“What are you asking?”

“Answer me. It’s a simple question. Have you been with Alexander? Have you made love to Alexander?”

“Dasha, of course I haven’t. Look, this is just—”

“You’ve lied to me for so long. Are you lying to me now?”

“I’m not lying.”

“When? Then? Now?”

“Not then. Not now,” Tatiana said, barely able to get the words out.

“I don’t believe you.” Dasha closed her eyes. “Oh, God, I can’t take it,” she whispered. “I can’t take it. All those days, those nights, those hours we have spent together, slept in the same bed and ate out of the same bowl — how can all of that have been a lie, how?”

“It wasn’t a lie! Dasha, he loves you. Look how he kisses you. How he touches you. Didn’t he used to make sweet love to you?” Those words were difficult to get out.

“Kissed me. Touched me. We haven’t been together since August. Why is that?”

“Dasha, please . . .”

“I’m not for touching these days,” said Dasha. “You’re not either.”

“These days will be over.”

“Yes, and me along with them.” Dasha coughed.

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Tania, what are you going to do when I’m gone? Will it be easier for you?”

“What are you talking about? You’re my sister . . .” Tatiana, if she could have, would have wept. “I haven’t left, haven’t gone away! I’ve stayed here with you. I’m not anywhere else. I’m not leaving you. And we are not dying. He loves you.” Tatiana put her hands on her chest to stifle a lingering groan.

“Yes,” Dasha said brokenly, “but what I want is for him to love me the way he loves you.”

Tatiana said nothing. She was listening to the wood burning in the ceramic stove, estimating how long they had before the chair leg burned to ashes, her hands on her heart. “He doesn’t love me,” she said in a hollow voice. How can he love me, but plan to marry you?

“Tell me,” Dasha said, “how long were you going to keep this from me?”

Until the end. “Nothing to keep from you, Dasha.”

“Oh, Tania.” Dasha fell quiet. “How is it possible that at a time like this, in the dark, so close to the other world, you still have the energy to lie and I still have the energy to be angry? I can’t even get up anymore. But anger, yes; lies, oh, yes.”

“Good,” said Tatiana. “You’re warmer for it. Feel it. Hate me if you need to. Hate me with all your might if it helps you.”

“Should I hate you?” Dasha’s mouth barely moved. “Is there reason for me to hate you?”

“No,” said Tatiana, turning to the wall. Lies to the last.


2


The next day Dasha still could not get up. She wanted to, she just could not. Tatiana got the blankets off her and the coats. It was nine in the morning, and the girls once again had slept through the eight o’clock air-raid siren.

Tatiana finally left by herself and went to the store. She got there about noon and found there was no more bread. They had gotten a small shipment in, which had all gone by eight in the morning.

“Do you have anything at all you can give me? Is there anything you can do to help me?” asked Tatiana of the woman behind the glass counter. The woman could not even answer.

Tatiana left and walked to find the only one who could help her.

To the sentry at the gate to the barracks she said, “I’m looking for Captain Belov. Is he here?”

“Belov?” The guard, whom Tatiana had not seen before, looked at his roster schedule. “Yes, he’s here. But I don’t have anyone to go and fetch him.”

“Please,” said Tatiana. “Please. There was no bread today, and my sister is—”

“What do you think, the captain has bread for you? He doesn’t have any bread. Get out of here.”

Tatiana didn’t move. “My sister is his fiancée,” she said.

“That’s very good,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me the rest of your life story?”