Page 46 - Images Literary Magazine 2016 - 2017.pdf

Then she slapped me. She slapped me hard. A stinging pain burned through my skin.
?Get out," Sister Tatiana calmly said. ?Take your filthy siblings, and get out.?
The next day, Darius, Valentina, Lex, and I were walking on the streets of Brest alone and afraid, all
because I had to open my big mouth. ?Maybe we will see Mama and Papa working!? Darius proposed
with hope.
We walked for hours, hoping there were scraps on the road, or maybe even a generous family
would take us in and help us. My father would have known what to do. Resourceful and persistent, he
could?ve helped get out of this mess.
?Katka,? Darius said with concern in his voice. ?What are they doing?? I spun around to find Soviet
trucks rumbling down the road. The four of us, stunned and frozen, stood idly by as they pulled over
and marched towards us.
One Soviet general approached us with his guards and said, ?What are you doing out on the
streets??
?We were orphans at the nearby Catholic church...we were tossed out,? I explained. I thought it was
better, to tell the truth rather than lying, what could I lose now?
?Poles,? he concluded. ?Names??
What was he doing? Writing our names to be next on the four hooks in the middle of town? Maybe
sending us to Siberia to freeze. Accepting our defeat, I answered.
?Siblings. I am Katka Evana Nowak. My brother Darius Victor, my sister Valentina Caterina, and
Alexei Peter.?
He scribbled our names on his list and looked at us with a look different than the other Russians
I?ve encountered. He looked genuinely sympathetic.
?Come with us, please,? he said quietly as his guards grabbed us roughly and dragged us forcibly to
their trucks. Alexei started to wail as he was hoisted by a soldier and thrown into the back of the truck.
Darius looked confused. Valentina never let go of my hand as we were hustled into the truck.
?WHERE ARE YOU TAKING US?? I screamed as Alexei cried.
?Katka!? Darius yelled for me, and in the darkness, I felt the hands of my brothers and sister hold me
as we were driven into the unknown shadows of the future.
The truck drove for what seemed like days. We had no food or water, and Alexei?s consistent
coughing made me fear for his health. Medicine was scarce nowadays, especially for Poles. Soon, the
truck stopped, and my muscles felt like jelly. Famished, I visualized a roasted chicken with bread. The
doors opened to reveal a smell of salt and wind. A bustling Soviet camp was where we arrived. We
also saw Polish children being huddled in our direction. I was curious but fearful. The same general
who plucked us out of the street led us to a tent where other Polish children were. We were put in a
line and told to wait until our names were called.
I stopped talking after Darius and Valentina broke into tears and Alexei cried because of his painful
coughing. By this time, the ship was well into its journey, and the stars surrounded the Moon in a
spectrum of beauty and wonder. I could still hear Darius whimper over the thought of our dead
parents. Valentina just stared out into the night wind, pondering the horrors of life.
The next morning, Darius and Valentina were still in grief but showed signs of life when Soviet
soldiers came around with pieces of bread. We devoured the pieces in minutes, and I hoped it would
make Alexei feel a little bit better. To my horror, it did not. He would vomit blood almost every hour,
crying louder and louder. Other children would stare as I would try to calm him down, but nothing
would help. Finally, I tried singing my mother?s lullaby, praying that it would put him to sleep.
?Hush little boy, sleep and dream
About peace, love, and cookies and cream
May you sleep in comfort and know what is true
That Mama and Papa will always love you?
My singing might have been questionable, but it miraculously put little Alexei to sleep, and as he
closed his eyes, we could finally see shoreline on the dim horizon. As we neared the coast, women
came around and threw us new clothing. This new land must have been hot because what she gave us
looked like desert clothing. Tan blouses and skirts for girls, and shorts and shirts for boys. They also
gave us these ugly hats that protected us from the sun, and Valentina acted as if she was royalty,
waving her hand in the air, and spinning around in her new skirt. The ship finally docked at a port-city
that someone told me was named Pahlavi. We were led down the plank and set foot on new soil, and a
new home. A man with a large camera took my sister and brothers aside, and along with a few other
children and snapped a picture of them. Maybe they made the local newspaper! I laughed. Some of the
children looked like little soldiers with their army hats. From there, we were led to a station where they
inspected us for diseases. I was scared that they would take Alexei away, but instead, a kind Iranian
woman gave him a spoonful of medicine and led us to a train. If something happened to Alexei, my
world would definitely crumble beneath me. From there, we were seated and after ten minutes we
were en route to Isfahan.
Night came when we arrived. To my surprise, signs had Polish written on them. Stores bore Polish
names and products. Happily, my siblings and I jumped out of the train and were led into a building
where all four of us shared a room. It was much better than sharing it with hundreds of other children
spreading sickness. Alexei already started to look better, and a woman pulled me outside of our room
to explain what was going on.
?Hello Ms. Nowak, my name is Kiana. Welcome to the city of Isfahan,? Kiana introduced. Like Putinov,
her Polish was rusty.
?Thank you, please call me Katka,? I politely replied.