Page 100 of Cilka's Journey

“I can’t see,” she whispers.

“You may have blurred vision, so don’t panic, Cilka. You’re going to be all right. Can you see my hand?”

Something flashes in front of Cilka, a movement. It could be a hand. Cilka blinks several times, and each time she does so her vision clears a little until she can identify fingers; yes, it is a hand.

“I see it, I see your hand,” she mumbles weakly.

“Good girl. Now just listen while I tell you how you are, then you can tell me how you feel. All right?”

“Yes.”

“You have had a nasty blow to the back of the head requiring twenty stitches. I can’t believe you made it out of there, when the whole tunnel was collapsing. What are you made of?”

“Stronger stuff than you thought.”

“We had to cut some of your hair away, I’m afraid, but it willgrow back. Now, you are bound to have a headache and we don’t want you talking, feeling like you have to do anything.”

Cilka opens her mouth to speak.Pavel. She is remembering the last moments in the mine. She gurgles his name, in distress.

“It’s all right, Cilka,” Raisa says.

“Pavel…”

“I’m sorry, Cilka. He didn’t make it.”

And it is my fault, she thinks. I made him go in.

She closes her eyes.

I am cursed. Everyone around me dies or is taken away. It is not safe to be near me.

“Cilka, you have grazes and bruises on your upper back where the rock landed; you must have been bent over when it happened. They are nothing serious and are healing nicely.”

She tries to breathe. It doesn’t matter about her.

“How are the other men?”

“Oh, Cilka. Only you would ask about others before yourself. Thanks to you, the workers who came out before you are mostly fine.”

Cilka is relieved they are not all dead. But, Pavel. She should have been more careful.

“Now,” Raisa says. “Here is how you are going to be treated, and I want your promise that you will do as we tell you. I want none of your interfering, even if you do think you know more than all of us put together.”

Cilka says nothing.

“I said, promise.”

“I promise,” she mumbles.

“Promise what?”

“To do as I’m told, not to interfere and think I can heal myself.”

“I heard that,” Yelena says, having snuck up on them. “How is our patient?”

“I’m—”

“I’ll do the talking, you’ve just agreed to keep quiet,” Raisa says.