1941

August lay on a nest of blankets, his chest moving but his eyes closed shut. He was alive but unconscious. His once clean clothes and face were now stained with dirt. Even his arms were littered with cuts. His muddy boots were taken off and placed beside the gun leaning against the wooden wall.

The same boy, whom he met earlier, sat beside him, staring at him with curious eyes. After all, it was his first time seeing a soldier who had no intention of killing him. Why didn’t he want to kill him though? He was Russian, and Germany and the Soviet Union were at war right now, so he was the enemy. It didn’t make sense to the boy and his feeble mind couldn’t comprehend it yet but he did what he had to do when he decided to follow the soldier and saw him pass out in the middle of the forest; he dragged him home with his dog, Pasha’s help and now, he was lying on the best makeshift bed that his little hands could make in such a short time.

“Лука!” He jumped up, his eyes darting quickly to the door where a girl stood, her arms crossed over her chest, “Иди сюда.” Afterwards, she turned on her heel and strode away with Luka following obediently.

Luka gulped; the air was thick and tense. This was a kind of atmosphere that you couldn’t cut with a knife. He fiddled with his hands and stood quietly while the girl sat down as she dropped her bag on the wooden table. His stomach churned and he felt sick to the very core – a sure sign of guilt. But no matter how guilty he was of bringing an outsider into their home, he didn’t regret saving the man. Who was he to deny him his right to live?

“Кто такой человек?” She curtly asked while taking out the tools from her bag and polishing them one by one.

He fiddled with his fingers more, growing more nervous by the second. “Он является…” He choked at the end but continued, “Он является немецкий солдат.”

Luka flinched when she suddenly slammed the knife she was polishing on the table and calmly said, “Почему вы приносите его здесь тогда, зная, что он был немецкий?”

He opened his mouth to answer but suddenly Pasha began barking loudly. Luka turned around and ran towards the room, faltering in his step a bit when he glanced back at the girl who made no move to get up and continued to polish her tools with indifference plastered on her face. He shook his head slightly; she was obviously beyond mad at him right now. When Luka stepped into the room, he wasn't surprised to see the German sitting up, cradling his head in his hands. Pasha stopped barking and went back to lying down.

Luka quickly walked towards him and knelt down in front of him, "Вам нужна вода?"

The German looked at him with a confused expression on his face and Luka quickly realized his mistake; he slapped his forehead lightly for forgetting that this man wasn't Russian. Then he made a gesture wherein he pretended to hold a glass and drink from it, hoping that this foreigner would get the hint and he did. The man slowly nodded his head and Luka immediately stood up to get it but the girl was a few feet away from him, holding a canteen to him.

He accepted the canteen hesitantly and meekly asked, "Означает ли это, вы будете помогать ему?"

They stood in silence, the girl's eyes never leaving his face. Then after a few moments, she nodded shortly and curtly said before leaving the room, "Да. Но когда он уже может ходить, он оставит."

But Luka spoke again before she stepped outside the room, "Не может ли он остаться на несколько недель после того, как он исцелял? Он имеет некуда идти."

"Он оставит," she said, "Если он отсутствует, я сделаю его покинуть. Аутсайдеры не приветствуются здесь."