Page 23 of Cilka's Journey

Antonina walks past the women to Josie’s and Cilka’s beds. All eyes follow her path.

“Well?”

Cilka says, “Excuse me, Antonina Karpovna, can I get the notes from under my pillow?”

She nods.

Cilka produces the notes and hands them over. Antonina first reads the one describing Josie’s condition and her need for daily dressings and no work. She pauses, squints at Josie’s hand and nods. Then she reads the second note, looks at Cilka, and reads it again.

“You just scored the best seats in the house. Congratulations.” She passes the notes back to her, bemusement on her broad face. “All out, line up.”

The women head back outside, falling into two neat rows. They follow Antonina to the mess. Dinner awaits. The snow has stopped falling but is thick on the ground. They trudge through it. Cilka is keeping her head down, and her hat low. But Elena and Hannah catch up to her.

“You’re going to have to tell us what the note says,” Elena hisses through her scarf.

Cilka doesn’t say anything.

And then Natalya says, in a more polite tone, “We are curious, Cilka…”

“Well, I didn’t say yes,” Cilka says, “but they’re short in the hospital and they asked me to work there.”

Elena gasps.

“You lucky bitch.”

Hannah glares at Cilka.

“She said no,” Josie says, “but the doctor is making her do a trial.”

“Why didn’t you say yes?” Natalya asks.

“Scared of needles?” Cilka tries—a joke to deflect the tension.

Olga, who has been watching all the while from a distance, sniggers.

Josie says, “She didn’t want to have a position higher than us—honestly, I heard her try to refuse.”

“That’s madness,” Natalya says. “Any one of us would say yes.”

They’ve almost reached the mess.

Cilka feels the knowledge sinking in for them all, even Elena and Hannah, that now she will have access to better food, warmth, materials. By accident, again, Cilka is in a position of more, unwanted, power.

“I’ll try to save Josie’s bandages,” she says, “when they’re changed. So you can wrap your feet, your heads, for work.”

“You better,” Elena says.

At the mess, the women all file off and eat their watery soupand stale bread. She notices that Elena keeps looking at her, whispering to Hannah.

Josie says to Cilka, “It will be all right. Maybe we’ll all find good jobs.” She is staring off into the middle distance, no doubt imagining a rosier future. Cilka is glad she can maintain this optimism. It will keep her strong.

Nine o’clock is observed by the lights going out; the women already in their beds.

The searchlight outside advances into the hut, along with a shower of snow. The door is open. Several women raise their heads to see the cause. Boys and men, old and young, are pushing their way into their hut. Many of the women scream, burying themselves under their blanket.If you can’t see me and I can’t see you, I’m not here.

“We thought we’d give you a little time to settle in,” says the man Cilka recognizes as Boris—the one who chose her. “But it’s bloody cold and we need some warming up. Where are you? Where’s my pretty one? I’ve been waiting all day for my fuck. Come on, identify yourself so we can get started.”

He is walking in her direction, pulling the blankets from all the women as he approaches.