Men of Winter

Chapter XX

'Now the giant raised up a gigantic stone, and spun round for the murderous toss.' — Odyssey 9

I felt as if I had slept for years but in a beneficial way. I was refreshed and revitalized. In short, I felt good. I was hungry but not weakly so. In the kitchen I discovered my clothes were dry or in some cases dry enough. I gladly exchanged my clownish suit for the mismatched uniform. I opened a shutter and saw the silvery hue of early morning. We would need fresh water so I decided to volunteer my services. I suspected little Nina had more of her homegrown tea stashed somewhere – that would be a nice way to begin the new day. I was feeling benevolent toward Helena and her supposed love. I was convinced her bizarre soliloquy was the result of stress and exhaustion and too much vodka and too little food.

I heard movement upstairs and the muffled sound of voices behind closed doors. I looked forward to bringing Yadnina and Helena and the stranger cups of hot tea. Perhaps if I poked around I would find a bit of dry biscuit to include with breakfast. Maybe there was even a little jam or honey in the cellar, something Nina had overlooked and would therefore be just as surprised and tickled as Helena.

I took the pail and opened the makeshift door. I did not know where the pump was but figured it would be easy enough to follow Nina's tracks. I stopped on the porch for a moment to make a cigarette. I had to remove my mitten to do so. Soon I was inhaling the heavenly smoke. I felt strong enough to wrestle a bear – ha, two bears, one with each hand!

I took up the pail and descended the loose steps. Yadnina's path led toward the circular barn; perhaps the pump was behind it. I took the cigarette from my lips and began whistling a jolly tune. At first I could not recognize my own repertoire, then I recalled it from the gramophone in the whores' tent. I tried to think of different songs but my brain could only produce the ones from my strange night of lovemaking. So be it, I decided, and whistled gaily.

I did not concern myself with the tracks that intersected Nina's, horse or mule hooves. I suppose I thought they were old tracks, if I thought at all, until I stepped in the fresh manure. I stood frozen, my boot still squarely in the shit, and followed the tracks with my eyes. They led to the barn. I tossed my cigarette in the snow and crept toward the old structure, which had narrow vertical openings spaced along its curving exterior. I went to one such opening and cautiously peered inside. I first saw the five animals in various stalls, three horses, it seemed, and two mules. I could see blankets and bedrolls scattered here and there around a nearly exhausted fire. I crept to the next opening in hopes of a different view and seeing the men themselves, who I assumed to be soldiers. But whose? Ours or theirs? And did it matter?

Meanwhile, my mind was racing. I must warn the others. Should we escape into the woods? All right maybe for Helena and me, and Nina too, but the unconscious fellow? Perhaps we could make a stand, with Nina's thunderous gun and the bow and arrows. Nina was an amazing shot but I doubted she was taught to load the weapon at field combat speed. And who would use the bow? I probably could not hit the barn at fifty paces, leave be an armed man.

Maybe the soldiers were friendly and would assist us. I was peering in my third opening, to no avail, when I heard the rusty arm of the water pump, more or less directly behind me. I turned suddenly, too suddenly – it is what caught the attention of the soldier who was just about to have a drink.

My instinct was to run, and the soldier's was to chase. I wanted to escape to the house but knew it was not the right thing to do, so I continued to run around the barn. I went past an open door ... and three more soldiers, who were holding tin cups. They joined the chase too. It continued that way – I running for my life and the soldiers pursuing, seemingly on my heels, for two or three revolutions until one of them figured out to go the opposite direction and cut me off. I stopped and hit the ingenious soldier with the pail, which I had stupidly clung to, but just in the arm – only enough aggression on my part to anger him. Then the others were there, five in all, and I was manhandled into the barn.