Page 88 of Cilka's Journey

“I’ll make a deal with you,” Cilka’s father says. “I promise to give you driving lessons, but not today. Today is your birthday and we will have a lovely day, then celebrate at dinner. For now, we change seats.”

Reluctantly, Cilka concedes defeat—one of the few times in her short life she has—and, pouting, moves to the front passenger seat.

Her scarf is flapping in the wind as she is driven through her hometown of Bardejov…

Cilka, in Vorkuta, finally falls back to sleep.

CHAPTER 22

“He made it through.”

The words greet Cilka as she enters the ward.

“Mikhail Alexandrovich? Where is he?”

“Bed 1—we thought you might like to have him as close to the nurses’ station as possible. You’ll be able to write your notes and still see him.”

“I’ll go and say hello.”

Mikhail is sleeping. Cilka looks at him for several moments, her eyes wandering down the bed to where she knows only one leg remains, hidden under blankets. She was present when his right leg was amputated. She touches his forehead, swathed in fresh bandages. Her training kicks in and she picks up his file, scanning it for information on how he fared overnight. Nothing concerning jumps out at her.

When she returns to the desk area, Raisa discusses the other patients and they share out the workload: washing, changing dressings, administering medication. There are two new women on the ward who had a fight the previous night, inflicting nasty injurieson each other. Raisa and Cilka agree to nurse one each, to avoid getting caught in the middle of the dispute.

Cilka has barely begun attending to her patient when the words “Ambulance going out” are shouted.

“Go! I’ll see to your patient,” Lyuba calls out.

Outside, the ambulance is waiting.

“Do you want to ride up front?” Pavel asks.

“Yes,” Cilka says as she takes hold of the ambulance door. “After you. Kirill Grigorovich can play with your leg today.”

Reluctantly Pavel climbs into the ambulance, pushing up against Kirill.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kirill demands.

Cilka climbs into the cab, slamming the door shut.

“Let’s go.”

With a screeching of gears, the ambulance drives off.

“If we’re going to be working together, can we try to get along?” Cilka says, leaning over Pavel and staring at Kirill.

He changes gear, refuses to reply.

“Do we know what we are going to today?” Cilka asks.

“A crane has collapsed and the driver is trapped inside,” Pavel says.

“Only one casualty?”

“I think so, but you never know. Sometimes we’ve gone to an accident like this and found that the bloody thing came down and landed on ten others,” Pavel answers.

“Who is rescuing him?”

“Depends,” Kirill throws out.