When the Doves Disappeared (8 page)

“What do you want?”

“I want us to start planning our lives, of course.”

“And what does the Commissar General have to do with it?”

“You have to get new identity papers, just like everybody else. They’ve given orders about it. I can help you.”

“I don’t need any advice from Mr. Wurst.”

“Auntie Anna wouldn’t like it if I didn’t look out for you.”

The idea made me laugh. Edgar was getting cheeky.

“You’re well suited for the police force,” he said. “You ought to apply now. They’re in serious need of new men.”

“That’s not for me.”

“Roland, all the Bolsheviks have been cleared out. The work is easy and you wouldn’t have to join the German army. Isn’t that why you’re still sitting here? What is it you’re hoping for?”

Finally I sensed what he was getting at. Now that the time for muscle and gunpowder had passed and the ranks of the police needed filling, he saw his opportunity. I looked at him and saw a glitter of greed in his eyes: the Baltic barons were gone, and so were the Bolsheviks and the leaders of the republic. Empty leadership positions, just waiting for him. That’s why he’d been acting so important, that’s what he’d been holding in. My cousin had always considered the German gentry superior, admired the bicycles imported from Berlin, gone crazy over their video-telephones. He even arranged his sentences sometimes in German word order. But I didn’t understand why he was telling me about his schemes. What did it have to do with me? He’d been sent to the
gymnasium
in Tartu and to the university, he had plenty of opportunities without me. I remembered how cocky he used to be, strutting around the yard during his vacations. He was always able to get some money from Mother when he wanted to order books about aviation from Berlin, pictures of airplanes and German flying aces, and while everyone else was making hay, Mother would lie around the house complaining of faintness and Edgar would sit by her bed and tell her stories about Ernst Udet’s aerial tricks, even though in the country that kind of behavior was considered very strange. They were so alike, Mother and Edgar. Neither one of them paid any attention to my advice, but I had to take care of the two of them anyway. I started hoping that Edgar would leave, start his own career, take care of himself.

“So go join the police. What do you need me for?”

“I want you with me. For the sake of all we’ve been through together. I want you to have a good situation, a new beginning.”

“Mr. Wurst is awfully concerned about my affairs, but why isn’t he with his wife? Or have you found yourself some lady friend to aid you in your maneuvers?”

“I thought I should get my life in order first. That way Juudit can jump right in. Into a life ready-made. She’s always been so demanding.”

I started to laugh. Edgar’s voice grew tense but he bit through his anger, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down until it finally settled. He turned his face away and said:

“I wish you would come with me. For friendship’s sake.”

“Have you talked to Mother about your plans?” I asked.

“Not until everything’s certain. I don’t want to get her hopes up unnecessarily.” He raised his voice again. “We can’t stay here in Leonida’s cabin forever. And I’ve already told them that I know of a well-trained man qualified for the police force. You. You’re needed. Estonia needs you!”

I decided to go back to the stable to water the horse. I hoped Edgar wouldn’t follow me. I didn’t lack for plans of my own, whatever my cousin might think. I had collected all my notes and arranged them, and I had gathered more information whenever I happened upon more of our men, not to mention the facts I’d deduced from Edgar’s stories. I already had plans to go work at the harbor at Tallinn or the railway in Tartu—I might even get enough pay to send some back home. Edgar hadn’t brought Mother a bean, and the Armses had been sharing their meat with his citified wife. I had to provide for them, and hunting and guarding the moonshine wasn’t enough. Leonida’s back was bent because Mother wasn’t any help and Aksel was missing a leg. The harbor was the more tempting option because Tallinn was closer to Rosalie and I could also avoid the German army. I had already falsified the birth date on my papers, in case they should ever get the men from the harbor into their files. But if Edgar had promised me to the police force, the Germans might already know too much about my past. I wouldn’t be allowed to work at the harbor for long unless Edgar made me new papers under a new name—but if he did, could I trust him not to tell the Germans about it?

Taara Village, Estland General Region, Reichskommissariat Ostland

W
HEN JUUDIT ARRIVED
in the countryside, no one said anything about her husband. Anna’s knitting needles clicked swiftly in her hands and a sock grew, a child’s sock, and somehow Juudit was certain that she wasn’t knitting it for Rosalie and Roland’s future little ones. Anna had always fussed over Edgar, but not over her own son. They said Roland was staying at Leonida’s cabin and came over now and then to help with the work. They didn’t mention it again, although Juudit kept waiting to hear more. But no, Rosalie just mentioned that Roland was staying in hiding, said it in passing, and her face didn’t shine with the happiness that Juudit expected. After all, her fiancé had come home in one piece. It felt strange that they didn’t talk about the homecomings like everyone else did. There was no shortage of talk on other subjects. First there was the lament over how the railway inspectors—they called them “the wolves”—confiscated passengers’ food supplies for their own use, and advice about how Juudit should behave if she had an inspection on her way home. They said it was a good thing her train hadn’t had to stop for any air raids. Later in the evening their talk focused on the village
manor. It had been empty after Hitler invited the Baltic Germans into Germany, and now it was occupied by the Germans for use as the local headquarters, and they’d rigged a dove trap on the terrace above the main entrance. Apparently the Germans ate pigeons; this made the women laugh. The Germans had brought in bathtubs, too. They were very clean people, and the officers were so easygoing. The gardeners who’d stayed on at the manor and the women at the washhouse said the Germans gave the children candy, and there was only one soldier on guard at a time. But whenever Juudit caught Anna’s or Leonida’s eye in the midst of this chatter, either woman would quickly freeze her mouth into a smile. Something wasn’t right. Juudit had expected Anna to be having one of her sick spells, what with her favorite boy on the road somewhere, his whereabouts unknown. She expected her to insist that Juudit stay with them in the countryside, but Anna didn’t seem worried about Juudit living in Tallinn alone, even smiled to herself, admiring the sock heel she’d just turned. The mere fact that Roland had survived couldn’t account for such cheerfulness. Was it because they had gotten the Bolsheviks’ tenants off their land? But the farm was still in such bad condition that they couldn’t manage the work without help. That was no cause for rejoicing.

Rosalie fell asleep before Juudit had a chance to talk with her alone, although they’d always used to talk after the lamp was extinguished. The next morning Juudit began to wonder if Rosalie had just been pretending to sleep. Her smile was tight as a sheet stretched on a laundry line, and she was in a great hurry. At the end of the day’s work, the blockade of Leningrad slipped out of Anna’s mouth, as if by accident:

“I heard that under the blockade you can only buy half a liter of water a day, for two rubles. Ten thousand people dying every day. They’ve eaten the horses. But could the men surrounding them be any better off?”

Leonida asked Juudit to help her break up the salt. Juudit picked up the mallet. There was a curl at the corner of Anna’s mouth, although the blockade shouldn’t give her any reason to smile. Maybe she was getting senile, or maybe she just didn’t know how to respond to Juudit’s dry eyes. Should Juudit have burst into tears at the thought that her husband might be in the blockaded city? Should she pretend to be sad and hopeful? Juudit’s mother had heard that someone had seen Edgar among the troops that were transferred to Leningrad, but who knew if any of those rumors
were true? Anna didn’t mention it, in any case. The talk was starting to weigh on Juudit’s chest. She wanted to get away, go back to Tallinn. The watchful eyes of Anna and Leonida pecked at her face, and it stung. It was impossible to talk with Rosalie alone—Anna and Leonida kept buzzing around, poking their heads in the door just when Juudit thought they’d gone to the barn, jumping in behind her when she tried to go with Rosalie to give the chickens their mash. Rosalie didn’t seem to notice anything, constantly busying herself with something, fingering the worn spot on her barn jacket where her favorite cow always licked her, avoiding Juudit’s gaze. Then she grabbed a lantern to go out to the barn, and Juudit was left to deal with Anna’s jabs alone. It started off innocently enough. Anna expressed concern about whether Juudit would find any buyers for the lard in Tallinn. It was easy in the countryside. The Germans were going from house to house chanting
“ein Eier, eine Butter, ein Eier, eine Butter.”
They sounded so desperate, it made Anna feel sorry for them.

“The children in Germany are dying from hunger. A lot of these men have children. You don’t understand it yet, but you will once you have your own kids hanging on your skirt.”

Her eyes fastened on Juudit’s middle. Juudit lifted her hand to her waist and cast a glance at the china cabinet, the row of empty tins for the soldiers waiting on the shelf—they couldn’t send their families their own provisions, but other food was allowed. There was a scurry at the edge of the room and Juudit saw a mouse run behind her suitcase and another one follow right after it. She pressed harder against her belly and Anna continued her lament as she pulled open cabinet drawers filled with chocolate for the soldiers. Leonida had been bringing chocolate, along with a five-liter churn of hot soup wrapped in a wool scarf, to the guards shivering on the antiaircraft platform they’d built on the roof of the school. The guards were more alert once they’d had a little chocolate.

“Those soldier boys don’t have anything to give in return, a few ostmarks perhaps. I’ll get by all right, but those children!”

If Juudit hadn’t desperately needed the supplies, she would have gone right back to Tallinn. Everything Anna said seemed to point to Juudit’s worthlessness. She decided not to care. She wouldn’t come back—but then what would she sell? She had to find some other way to make a living. Her stenography and German weren’t enough, there were too many girls
whose fingers knew their way around a typewriter better than hers did, too many young women looking for work. But nobody made moonshine in town. When she left Johan’s house, she’d left behind all of her husband’s things, and she regretted it now. But there was no point in hankering after his brand-new overshoes and winter coat. Her mother had said that she would reclaim Johan’s house when they returned to Tallinn. She couldn’t do anything with the place now, the house had suffered too much damage from the Bolsheviks, and no one knew where Johan had stashed the ownership documents. But Juudit had to think of something. Something other than tins of lard and moonshine. Because she wasn’t coming back here, and she couldn’t survive on German aid packages alone. Juudit still held her arm to her middle. Anna’s furtive glances at her waist made her want to protect it, although there was nothing to protect. What was going to happen when her husband came back? Juudit was sure he would insist that Anna live under the same roof with them, always watching her, making sure she made his fricadelle soup the right way. In town, you could make it practically every week, after all.

The tension created by Anna’s pointed comments broke when Aksel came to fetch his slaughtering knife and toss his work gloves on the stove to dry. The scent of wet wool spread through the kitchen, the lamp’s flame flickered. The hog had been hung up in the shed the day before and Aksel had slept there all night with one eye open for thieves. Rosalie came in from the cowshed, and when the others went to get the meat, Juudit took her hand and wouldn’t let go.