The Winter Guest (10 page)

8

Helena arose late the next morning. Gray light was already filtering in through the yellowed curtains and a clattering in the kitchen told her she was the last one to rise—something which almost never happened. The room was colder than normal, as if the fire had gone low. Helena drew the blanket up to her neck. She closed her eyes again and lay still for a moment, pretending that she was at the chapel, Sam beside her. Her breath grew deeper as she imagined his hands on her waist.

A loud bang drew her from her thoughts. Reluctantly she stood and dressed. She walked from the bedroom. Ruth was struggling to get the large washtub up the ladder from the cellar. Cold air whooshed in through the open door. Helena groaned inwardly. She had forgotten that it was washing day. Laundry was one of Helena’s least favorite tasks, made more onerous in winter by the fact that they could not do it outdoors. But Ruth persisted in gathering the bits of soap that remained to clean their clothes and sheets.

“Help me,” Ruth said, holding out her hand before Helena could escape again. Helena turned to look for Michal, but he was engrossed in play with Karolina. And Dorie was too small to be useful. Helena scampered down the basement stairs and pushed the tub up to Ruth, who pulled it into the room. Helena climbed back up, brushing the dirt from her sleeves, and added more wood to the fire to take away the chill.

There came a sudden yelp from the bedroom. Alarmed, Helena rushed toward it. Dorie, who had been trying to help with the wash by removing the bedding, sat on the floor, a fresh red scrape on her right arm. Helena brought out the kit that held the salves and bandages. As she cleaned the wound, she was taken by her sister’s arm, which had a shape reminiscent of Mama’s and seemed to have lengthened overnight. The children grew quickly, like weeds sprouting in the garden after a soaking rain. They had changed so much in the past several months, Mama and Tata would hardly have recognized them.

This thought, more than any other, saddened Helena. Sometimes, recalling Tata’s face was so immediate it was as if he was just here and had gone out hunting. But then she remembered everything that had happened since he was last here, all of the growth and changes in the world, and it was as if he were very far away, or perhaps had never existed at all.

“There.” She pressed a bandage firmly against Dorie’s elbow, grateful that at least for this one thing she could help.

“Here, let me.” Ruth rushed into the bedroom with a damp towel, then stopped as she looked down at the wound, which Helena had already tended. A hurt look erased her surprise, as though Helena had taken something that was hers.

But Dorie raised her arms to Ruth, seeming to forget Helena and the aid she had just given. Ruth scooped her up with effort and murmured into her hair. “There, there, little one.” It was the comfort more than anything else that the child had needed. Helena closed the kit and took the sheets from the bed, then followed Ruth from the room.

“Ruti...” As Ruth filled the tub with water and began to submerge the clothing, Helena considered once again if she should tell her sister about Sam. It had been easier to say nothing when it had just been one or two visits. But each time she saw him, the secret grew, burning inside her. It was more than just guilt—Helena wanted to tell someone about Sam, talk about him aloud and make him real. Despite their imperfect relationship, Ruth was the closest thing she had ever had to a confidante. Ruth would be angry she had kept the truth from her for this long, though. She would demand Helena stop seeing Sam. No, Helena could not risk ruining everything now. She swallowed the secret back down, an insufferable lump in her throat.

Ruth wrung out a shirt, then turned toward her expectantly. “What is it?”

“N-nothing,” Helena managed. Then another thought occurred to her. “With everything that is happening, maybe we should pack some bags.” Dorie had gone back to the bedroom to get the pillowcases, but Helena spoke low so that Michal would not hear.

“Bags?”

Watching her sister’s eyes widen, Helena realized just how outrageous the suggestion must have sounded. They had never spent a single night away from the cottage. “Just in case.”

“In case what?”

Helena faltered, not at all sure. In case the Germans came, she wanted to say. In case they had to leave. But the ideas seemed far-fetched, like the wild speculation and dramatics for which she had so often chastised Ruth. “I don’t know.”

“And where would we go?” Ruth said impatiently, and turned back to the wash. Again Helena had no answers.

Helena looked at the pile of laundry, which seemed to regenerate itself each time Ruth washed a garment, instead of growing smaller. “I need to tend to the animals,” Helena said, more eager than ever to escape the chore. Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed her coat. Outside she gazed wistfully into the forest. It felt so much longer than a day since her last visit to the chapel, perhaps because they had talked about him leaving. She did not have a pretext to go again so soon, though, without making Ruth suspicious. Her insides grew warm as she pictured Sam. What was he doing right now? Was he thinking of her?

If she couldn’t go see Sam today, at least she could check the trains again. Looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching from the house, Helena walked into the barn. She hitched her skirt and climbed up the ladder into the hayloft. She and Ruth had played here often as girls, creating mountains and oceans out of the stiff, browned grass, games that only the two of them understood. One day Ruth had minded how it got in her hair and declared it too scratchy. She had not played there with Helena again. It was not she, but Ruth, who had changed, trying to act ladylike and look nice for boys. She had left Helena behind. But now Piotr was gone and Helena had something with Sam, though what she was not sure.

Leaning back, Helena stared up at the gray morning sky that traveled boundlessly over the mountains to the south. A whistle sounded in the distance, pulling her from her thoughts. A train, the ordinary sort with a dozen or so boxcars that she had seen her entire life, puffed slowly around the corner, steam rising. Unlike the empty train she had told Sam about, the boxcars on this one were closed. Through a slat in one of the closed doors, she thought she glimpsed the very oddest sight: an arm sticking out. But she blinked and then it was gone.

The train moved around a curve and disappeared from sight. She would tell Sam what she had seen on her next visit and see if he could make any sense of it. Turning in the direction of the chapel, Helena scanned the tree line. Something moved, breaking the stillness of the forest. A dog, or wolf perhaps... No, it was bigger than an animal, she realized, squinting
. A man?
Helena leaned forward, her concern growing. Was he looking for Sam?

The figure was headed away from the chapel, though, walking toward the village. As it drew closer and came into focus, Helena gasped at the familiar limp.
Sam!
He had left the chapel and somehow made his way through the woods. Did he mean to come here to the cottage? No, he was walking parallel to the tree line, headed doggedly for something. But he was out in full view of anyone who might look in that direction. She climbed down the ladder from the loft and raced across the barnyard. She had to stop him.

At the ground level, Helena paused, unable to see him through the trees. She started toward the forest in the direction he seemed to have gone. Moments later she spied him, some fifty meters ahead. He was trying to move quietly, but his awkward limp, magnified out here in the rough terrain, caused branches to snap, threatening to betray him at any second. She started after him, sliding in her haste. Then she righted herself and stepped forward more carefully, using the trees on either side for support, making up ground between them. She wanted to call after him but didn’t dare.

“Sam,”
she whispered finally as she neared him. He turned, surprise and then stubborn defiance setting his face. Perspiration coated the delicate curve of his upper lip. “Are you mad? Where are you going?”

He opened his mouth to speak and then, seeming to think better of it, turned and started walking again, heading east. Now she understood—she had told him where the crash site was. She followed him, watching his shoulders square with determination and his muscles strain. Warmth surged through her. Though she was frustrated that he had risked everything by leaving the chapel, she could not help but be glad to see him again. But her annoyance persisted. “Your leg isn’t healed. You’re going to make it worse. And it’s broad daylight. Anyone could see you, or the Germans could come back.”

“I can’t just sit around waiting. I have to find the plane.”

“Why? You can’t think someone might still be alive?” After all the time that had passed, he could not possibly have hope.

His eyes darted back and forth desperately and she knew then it was more than that. “There’s information in the plane, things that the Germans must not discover.” It was the most he had said about why he had come to Poland. Her curiosity grew.

“What information?” He bit his lip. Her frustration rose. “I’m risking my life helping you, Sam. I would think you might trust me by now.”

“The longer I wait here, the greater jeopardy for the mission.”

She wanted to tell him that his mission, whatever it was, had ended the minute his plane had crashed, that it was madness to do this. But she knew he would not be dissuaded and standing here arguing made the risk of discovery even greater. “Fine, I’ll help you.”

Helena held out her hand and he took it, leaning on her slightly for support. She led the way, trying to clear a navigable path for him while clinging to the bit of forest where the pine trees were most dense so as not to be seen. They made their way through the forest, their footsteps breaking the silence.

They reached the swath of forest she had seen from the loft. Trees had fallen or were sheared off midway, as if taken down by loggers and improbably left. The destruction was much more massive than Helena had imagined, even having heard the crash. There was a tangle of metal larger than her house, so twisted it scarcely resembled the planes she’d seen flying overhead. It sat deep in the crater it had made upon impact, covered lightly with the snow that had fallen since. The roof had been peeled off like an open can and one of the wings was missing. A faint burning smell hung in the air, suggesting someone had been here more recently than the night of the crash. Of course, the Germans had found the site—the fact that Sam had jumped and landed miles away was the only reason he was still alive.

Sam stood silently for a moment, staring at the wreckage. Pain rolled over his face as he imagined the crash and what his fellow soldiers must have suffered. He dropped her hand and raced forward. “Careful,” she said as he moved awkwardly through the jagged, unsteady pieces.

He disappeared into the front of the plane, leaving Helena alone. Her skin prickled knowing the Germans could come back anytime.

Sam emerged, his face ashen.

“What is it?” He did not speak as he made his way back toward her. “Come,” she said, taking his hand. Together they returned to the shelter of the unbroken trees. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“One of the men, John...he was still in there.” He shook his head, distraught over seeing his friend. “We’re soldiers, I know. We’re supposed to expect these things and be able to handle them” His face crumpled, sadder than she had ever seen it. She put her arm around him, searching for words to ease his pain but finding none. “John was the most eager of all of us to get home. His wife was having a baby.” He straightened. “The others could be alive. I should go look for them.” He started forward, pulling at her hand.

She stopped. “Sam, wait. That’s impossible. Where would you look?” She did not wait for him to answer. “If they jumped like you did, they could be across a hundred miles of countryside. And if they were arrested, to go after them would be suicide.” He was silent, acknowledging that she was right. But his eyes darted wildly.

“Did you find what you were looking for inside the plane?” she repeated in a low voice, changing the subject.

“Gone.”

A chill ran through Helena. “What was it?” she could not help but ask, unsure if he would answer.

He bit his lip. “It was information,” he whispered, “that would have helped the partisans—and shown them that they could trust us.”

Partisans.
Helena had heard stories of pockets of resistance, groups of young men who had taken to the woods in hopes of fighting back. The Home Army, they were called. There was even a rumor that some rebels had thrown a bomb into a German military truck, killing several soldiers. But such hopeful anecdotes were few and unsubstantiated. And even if they were true, what difference could a few schoolboys make throwing rocks at tanks? It was David versus Goliath. Surely the American army had not come all this way for that.

He continued. “Information for the partisans about positions, ways we could help them fight. The documents were encrypted, of course, with a key that we had to memorize. So the documents would be useless to the Germans, unless...”
Unless one of the men talked.
“If the Germans got their hands on the documents and the code, it would be devastating,” he added.

Her stomach twisted. “Do you think they did?”

“I don’t know. We were trained to destroy the information if captured, so one of the men might have done that if he had time. You see now why I had to come here.”

She processed the information. Sam was not just the ordinary soldier he had made out to be. If he had lied to her about this, what else? He had been cautious and rightfully so. But he trusted her now.

“You could have asked me. I would have gone to the plane for you.”

“After all that you’ve done, I couldn’t put you in further danger.”

They were traveling parallel to the village now and for a moment Helena considered taking Sam to their house. Just for the night. She could hide him in the barn and Ruth wouldn’t even have to know. But that would make the danger even worse, bring it perilously close to the children. Instead, she started toward the forest.