Finding Zasha by Randi Barrow

Author:Randi Barrow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2012-11-27T16:00:00+00:00

GUESSING THAT POLINA’S FAMILY KNEW THE NAZIS WERE GOING FROM DOOR TO DOOR, I WENT TO THE BACK DOOR SO I WOULDN’T SCARE THEM.

“Yes?” a nervous-sounding voice replied to my knock.

“Polina, it’s Ivan. Let me in.”

“Go away. You can’t come in.”

I thought maybe I didn’t understand her correctly. “Polina, don’t be afraid. It’s me, Ivan. I’m coming in.”

The sound of running and then water were the first things I heard. “Polina, is that you?” I half whispered, slipping in the door and closing it quickly behind me. She didn’t answer. I tiptoed down the short hall and into the kitchen. Polina was standing at the sink, her back to me. She held something to her face.

“Why are you here?” she demanded.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No. Go away.” She hunched over slightly, as if to shield herself as I approached her. My heart was pounding. I remembered her strange mother. Could she have hurt Polina in some way?

“Why are you hiding your face?”

“I’m not.” Her voice sounded choked with emotion.

“Petr sent me. I have to talk to you.” Maybe that will reach her, I thought.

“I can’t.”

“Why not? What is going on?” I demanded in frustration.

She put down the cloth she’d been holding to her face, laying it on the sink. Slowly, she turned around to face me.

I gasped. “Oh my God.” The left side of her face was so swollen, it distorted her features. Red and purple swirled under her skin, and a two-inch cut between her temple and her eyebrow was still moist with blood. I stepped toward her, my arms out to hug her.

“Don’t touch me,” she said pleadingly. “It will hurt too much.” Her eyes glistened with tears.

“Who did this to you?” I asked as a cold fury spread through me.

She looked in my eyes a long time before answering. “You know who, and you know why.”

“Why?” I could barely get the word out.

“Because they can.”

I understood perfectly. We were in the power of our invaders, our occupiers. There would be no punishment for any of their hideous actions, and there would be no justice. There would only be more gratuitous violence, until it turned into torture, and then death. We were at their mercy, but they had none.

“Would it hurt to sit down?”

Polina laughed in spite of herself, even though I could tell it hurt her. “No, Ivan, it wouldn’t. They only hit me in the face.” I sort of laughed, too, as much as I could with sorrow in my heart and anger in my gut.

I pulled a chair out from the kitchen table for her. Polina, who I had last seen looking strong and agile in her basement when she taught me some secrets of hand-to-hand combat, now seemed almost waiflike, her dark hair in braids, an oversize sweater hanging from her thin frame. She sat down tentatively on the edge of the oak chair.

“I’m so sorry. I guess I couldn’t have come at a worse time….”

She shook her injured face slightly. “It’s okay. Is

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