Yana

53. Nimengo Station

So, you have come, the Abbott said. We were standing in the great hall. The walls were decorated with red draperies. Antique tables stood against the walls with colorful vases on them.

The first thing I noticed was the silence. It permeated everything. You could taste it, breathe it as if there was no one here.

You can see me, I said.

Does that surprise you, child? He laughed. He fingered the prayer beads around his neck and waved a hand. Come, he said, we will talk in my study.

I followed him into an enormous room lined with wall to wall book cases. On his wide desk were scrolls rolled up and tied. One was unrolled and was covered with strange letters I could not decipher.

Sit, he said, and pointed to a chair by his desk. We don't get many visitors.

I nodded and looked around the room. The floor was wood, deeply polished. There were crucifixes on the walls and richly painted paintings. There were golden icons and I smelled incense that had recently been burned.

The Abbott was a short portly man in a long brown robe. His head was shaven and his eye brows were white. I estimated him to be Nonna's age. His blue eyes were keen, observant. A large silver cross hung about his neck. His hands looked strong and steady.

How is it you see me? I asked.

Ayasha has taught us to see, but not with these yes, he smiled. She taught us there is a deeper seeing. Do not be surprised, child. She has been with us a long time.

Then you know why I am here, I said.

To be cured, yes, he smiled. She has cured many among us. Even the villagers come for her and she helps them.

He studied me for a long time, his fingers moving the beads.

You are at the end, in your last time, he said sadly. Someone so young, so powerful. You've made a long journey, child. And now you have come at last.

May I see her? I asked.

He stood. She's in her prayers now, he said, but I will tell her that you're here. She will come for you.

He nodded his head, straightened his robe, and left the room.

I woke up from a hurting neck. I saw Caleb beside me, his eyes watching me. I nudged my shoulder out from under his arm and looked out through the window. There was only forest.

"You slept a long time," he smiled. "What happened?"

"I was in the monastery," I said, "talking with the Abbott. He was fetching her for me. I sat in his study and waited for her to come."

"Did she come?" He asked.

"No, I woke up," I said.

"Was it a dream or did you really go there?" He asked.

"It was a dream," I said, "and it was real. It was both."

"How did you get there?" He asked.

"I flew on my broom," I smiled.

"Very funny."

"I traveled, Caleb. I thought of the monastery and I stood in the hall."

"It makes the thought of a train ticket look expensive," he smiled. "Hey, were at the station. Look!"

I looked and saw it. It was small: a few brick buildings and a wooden roof over the tracks. There were passengers waiting with their suitcases. Children were playing dangerously close to the rails.

We exited the bus and entered the walk way between the rails. I felt dizzy and my nose was bleeding. I pulled a tissue from my pocket and tried to stop it.

After a short wait, the train pulled in. It was an old train, hissing loudly from its brakes as it slowed to a halt. After the passengers on the train had disembarked, we entered the train, chose the first cabin, stashed our luggage and sat down.

My nose still bled and I saw Caleb's face turn pale. I smiled at him and used another tissue.

"This train goes into the deep forest," I said. "The foresters work there and sometimes they stay out for two weeks at a time. It is no man's land there; there is no other soul around for fifty miles."

"How do you know that?" He asked.

"Fayna told me," I said, "when you were sleeping."

"So these foresters," he said, "are like monks then, and the forest is their monastery."

"Precisely," I laughed. "And their saw is their crucible and the forest gear their habit."

"So how do we get to Lake Onega again?" He asked.

"We hitch a ride with a forester," I said. "It's probably 20 miles or so. They do it often for travelers so it should be alright."

I reached for another tissue. The blood came heavily now and I started feeling sick.

The train left the platform slowly, creaking and shaking as it went into full speed.

"You're losing too much blood," Caleb said. "What can I do, Yana?"

"Nothing," I said. "It will soon stop."

The train was the noisiest I had ever been in, and also the oldest. In Paris I rode the bullet train with its sleek streamlined body and its 200 miles an hour speed. Sitting in one was like sitting in your favorite lounge chair as the world whipped by.

We were surrounded by forest on both sides now. It seemed as if it had only grudgingly allowed the track through.

I kept my cupped hand under my nose and now the blood had completely filled it.

Caleb saw it and said: "Yana, we must find a doctor! You'll bleed to death!"

"Just another moment," I said softly. "It is stopping."

And it did stop then. Like a thought, I had said to Nonna. Like a thought.

And on and on we sped deeper and deeper into the Karelian forest.