“You are still in the Army?” asked Rudy.
Ricks nodded. “Yep, and I can still get around with my troops. So I always tell people never to let things get you down. There is a way to make things happen,” he said, slapping Rudy on the arm.
“That’s a good story,” said Mr. Polski, leaning against the doorpost. “I would believe that you have many more. Did you get a medal for that effort?” he asked.
Ricks blushed slightly. “Yes, I got the Silver Star and the Purple Heart. The big one, I got for an earlier action,” he said shyly.
Petyr’s mother came out of her room like a breath of fresh air. “Good morning,” she said as she passed through the room. “I hope you slept well, Mister Ricks,” she said in Polish. The boys translated for her.
“Very good, Ma’am. Thank you for your hospitality,” Ricks said.
“Good. Now I will fix a nice breakfast,” she said as she breezed into the kitchen.
The door opened from the third room and Petyr came out. His hair was mussed and he looked like he had just thrown on some clothing. He came over and plopped down next to Ricks. “Hi,” he said rubbing his eyes.
Ricks took a sniff and turned up his nose. “Pete, you need to wash up,” he said quietly. Sasha broke into a wide grin.
“What do you mean?” asked Petyr.
“Dummy,” said Sasha. Rudy poked Sasha in the arm.
Ricks almost laughed. He leaned in close. “Because you smell like a brothel. We can tell you were busy last night,” he whispered.
Petyr’s eyes went wide. He jumped from the couch and made his way outside where he grabbed a work bucket and filled it at the pump. Grabbing a rag, he took the bucket back into the bedroom and closed the door.
Sasha sat back and laughed hard. Even Ricks sat back and chuckled. Rudy got a disgusted look on his face and left the room. In a few minutes, Petyr came out looking much better. He had put on a clean uniform and had combed his hair. A few minutes later, Freda came out, brushing her hair and trying to look as if nothing had happened. It only fueled the fire for Sasha. He started to say something more when Mr. Kursov called him onto another room. They came back and Sasha sat down in a chair to sulk.
The rest of the day was a blur. The warm house and good conversation kept everyone in good spirits despite the war still raging just miles away. Later in the morning, the men went outside and set up the electric panel. A metal stand was driven into the ground and set in a position so that the panel would have sun all day. The panel was attached and the heavy insulated leads were run to where the electric cables were attached to the house. Following the instructions, the leads were bolted on.
Inside the house, the women were working on lunch when they heard the refrigerator come on. The overhead light also came on. Camille went over and felt along the heating strips on the baseboards of the house. They were putting out heat. Just to be sure, Freda went over to the electric stove that hadn’t been used since the Russians had invaded. Upon turning on an element, she felt it began to get hot. As the men came in, she exclaimed, “We have electricity back. Everything is working!”
With the electricity back on, Mrs. Kursov threw open the rest of the shutters and sunlight poured into the rooms. She began humming and singing tunes while she worked. It was the first time Anton Kursov had seen her happy in a long time.
In the late afternoon, after hours of telling stories and sharing experiences, Ricks stood and stretched. He called over to Petyr. “Pete, why don’t we walk back to that lake you were telling me about? I need to stretch out a bit,” he said.
Petyr grabbed his heavy jacket and led Ricks outside. They had driven the Humvee into the barn and Ricks went inside to get his gloves. The wind was still very cold but the two could tell there was a thaw in the air. In the barn, Ricks could see Mr. Polski liked keeping things neat and orderly. A number of farm implements were mounted on one wall from axes to scythes and other implements. Ricks felt of the edge of one of the tools and was pleased to see it was sharp as a razor. Being from a farm himself, he appreciated someone who knew how to take care of their tools.
The walk to the lake was pleasant. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the air was clean and crisp. Coming up on the trees, Ricks could see the evergreens swaying in the wind. The lake itself was beautiful, although the scene was marred by tons of leftover equipment where the Russians had left it. A number of boxes of stores had been opened and gone through.
“My father and Mr. Polski said they came up here and gathered what they could use. The food was the most important thing,” Petyr said.
“Yea, survival at its best. It was a good thing we were able to get those troops out of here,” Ricks said, remembering the joy on Petyr’s face when he found his family alive. Boxes and equipment were stacked everywhere. There was still more food, some fuel and lamps, even personal gear. They rummaged through the leftovers until it began to get dark, then made their way back toward the house.
***
Anton Bugayev started early for the evening. He was getting tired of only traveling at night. The cold seemed to almost never go away, but it was the only way to get across the border undetected. Today he started before dusk. The evening sky remained clear and blended from a blue to various shades of orange and red. After only thirty minutes walking he saw a house in the distance with lights burning inside. He wondered if there might be a chance to get a hot meal and be warm for a change.
Making his way slowly along the ditch on the side of the road, he looked for any sign of danger, but seeing none, he continued on. Bugayev decided he would simply knock on the door and ask for help. With refugees all over the country, the people may take pity on him and let him in. His hands fingered the small P-96 pistol in his coat pocket. It was his insurance in case he ran into trouble. The trusty pistol had been by his side for the last ten years. He made sure it was well maintained and fully loaded.
Coming up to the house, Bugayev could see people inside through the clear glass. Taking a deep breath, he walked up to the door and knocked. To his utter amazement, Bugayev found himself face to face with Anton Kursov.
A look of shock and fear crossed Krusov’s face. “What are you doing here,” he almost spat.
Instantly the 9mm pistol was in Bugayev’s hand. Aiming it directly at Kursov he poked it into the man’s stomach, forcing him back inside the house. Camille saw the man with the gun and let out a high pitched scream before Bugayev slammed the door.
Ricks and Petyr stopped in mid stride. “That was Camille,” said Petyr as he began to run toward the house with Ricks right behind him.
“Stop at the barn,” called out Ricks as the two men neared the house. Dashing into the open door, Ricks found what he was looking for, two broad axes that had been hanging on the wall behind the door. “Okay, now we’re armed. Before we go in we need to see what we’re up against,” said Ricks. “Let’s go by the kitchen window.”
Ricks and Petyr made their way in a wide circle so that they could see in the window but were too far away to be seen from anyone inside.
“I know that man,” said Petyr. “He was the one I told you about who was setting up those demonstrations.”
Ricks nodded in understanding. “He’s carrying some sort of pistol. Let’s move in a little closer.”
Inside the brightly lit room Bugayev stood in front of the whole family. The evil smile on his face was accentuated by the pistol in his hand. “Isn’t it amazing how things work out,” he said. “I have been looking for you a long time. Now that I have you, I want to enjoy the moment,” Bugayev said.