Lev leaned back in his chair. “So, I’m pretty sure after part of the roof caved.  The rescue workers figured there was no chance I was still alive. By then, my clothes had caught fire a few times, and the wet towel I used to douse the flames only pushed the fabric further into my skin.” Lev lifted his pant leg. “You see that deep indent on my calf? That missing chunk pulled away with the towel when I tried to hit the flames.” 

“Friggin’ gruesome, Lev.”

“Yeah, gruesome." Lev paused. “Do you know what it feels like to die?”

“How would anyone know that unless…”

“I do. I know what it is to die.”

“I’m confused. What’re you saying, Lev?”

"It was weird. I kept passing out because of the pain. It must have been just seconds at a time. Then waking to douse my clothes again with the wet towel. Finally, everything went numb, and my brain told me to stop fighting—I just laid back, Dimitri. I just laid back and closed my eyes–waiting.”

“Christ, Lev. You wanted to die?”

“No! I wanted to live, but every lobe of my brain told me it was over. The only sense I had left was the smell of my burnt flesh. The raw heat, the pained breathy screams that never made it past my lips, the pockets of red spitting embers dropping around me. It all seemed to get sucked into this–this unfeeling mass of emptiness. All of it just silently spinning above my head, waiting for my brain to tell me to stop breathing.”

Dimitri put his forehead on the table's edge and locked his fingers around the back of his neck. “Good Christ Almighty, Lev! I had no idea…”

“You okay? You want me to finish, or…”

“Yes, finish–finish! How the frig did you get out of there, Lev?”

To be continued:

Four years later / Entry 4 / Novgorod orphanage / 1934

A professionally dressed woman stood at the front desk of the Novgorod orphanage facility and tapped gently on the countertop. The receptionist glanced over her rectangular lenses at the signing visitor, pushed her glasses up, and returned her attention to the paperwork on her desk.“I don’t speak sign language,” she muttered.  

The woman gestured at a notepad and pen on the receptionist's desk and scratched out a note. ‘Perhaps there is someone here that speaks sign?’

The receptionist read the note in a breathy whisper and tossed the pad in her drawer.”No! And we’re busy people. We can’t stand around all day while you read our lips and write us notes.”

The woman studied the receptionist for a few seconds and motioned calmly that she return the pen and pad. ‘You appear to be having a bad day, so I’d like to apologize for my persistence, but this would go smoother if there were someone with sign language experience I could speak with. Your supervisor, perhaps?’ 

“Supervisor!--miss, you must realize my supervisor wouldn’t have time for this nonsense.” She paused and gave the woman the once over. “You appear to be an intelligent woman and somewhat well-dressed, as it were, but unless you have a child to register–of which I see none, then I’ll have to ask you to state your business with me or leave the facility.” 

The woman penned the third note and pushed it across the counter to the receptionist. ‘You may want to visit me someday soon.’

“And why on earth would I want to visit you?”

The woman gestured with two fingers and penned her final note. ‘Two reasons! 1. I’m sure you’d be interested in learning about how scarce jobs are these days. 2. I could arrange it so you’re moved right to the front of the unemployment line should the first reason not interest you.’

The receptionist leaped to her feet. “Luka! Luukaa!”

Luka’s hurried voice came from the other end of the hallway.“What is it–why’re you yelling, Lubora?” 

She pointed stiff-armed. “That woman has been slanderous and threatening!”

Luka glanced at Lubora disdainfully and extended a welcoming hand to the woman standing before him. “Zora? Zora Karavich? Are you doing inspections now?” Luka signed.

She nodded. “How are you, Luka? I wasn’t sure if you were still running this facility. Sorry to pop in so unexpectedly, but in all fairness, that’s what we're supposed to do.”

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s fine, Zora. So–I heard from the end of the hallway that you’ve already met my receptionist?”

“We’ll have a conversation about that in a minute. Right now, I have a more pressing matter.” She signed back. 

“Oh?”

“We’re getting reports of child kidnappings in surrounding orphanages. Has our office informed you about that?”

“Yes.”

Zora gave a dismissive wave.“I’m confident you run a tight ship.”

“Yeah, I try to. Lubora takes attendance at the night's end and ensures all the doors are secure and the alarms are on.” 

“Yes, well, and do you double-check her procedure before you leave?”

“Periodically, but we haven't had any issues.”

“Yet.”

“Zora, I understand your urgency, but…”

“My urgency goes deeper than you know, Luka. But that’s a story for another time.”

“Okay, but what can I say or do to ease your mind right now.”

“I don’t trust her, Luka.”

“Who?”

“Lubora, and to have her in charge of the security system…”

“Zora, I can assure you that her bark is worse than her bite. Not to continue on with the dog metaphors, but sometimes she mistakenly barks up the wrong tree, if you will. In fact, if she were a dog, she’d be loyal and dedicated to a fault.”

“But she’s clearly not a dog, is she, Luka?"

"Well, no, but..."

"I’m sorry, Luka. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Zora. I get it." Luka held a finger in the air. "But maybe, just maybe, there's a way to heal my hurt feelings.”

“Luka, I’m not here to barter emotions. I have a job to do…” 

“Accept my invitation to dinner.” Luka blurted.

"What? Luka, please, I..."

“Yeah, we can talk about those deeper urgencies you mentioned?”

Zora's shoulders relaxed.

“Uh–oh, it’s the eye roll!”

“Anyway, getting back to why I’m here.”

“Yes, continue, but promise me you’ll think about dinner.”

“Luka, this is important. Do you think we can revisit that later?”

“Okay, I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

“Anyway, I thought I’d put my feet on the ground for a few weeks to see if I could get some questions answered. Luka, do you mind if we stop signing for a moment?”

Luka slid his hands into his back pockets.“Okay, but I must warn you, I’m a little rusty in lip reading.” 

“I’d like to ask an unusual favor of you.”

“Of course, anything.”

“I’d like to come on as a resident for a few days to do some probing, see if anyone knows anything. Do you think you’d be able to handle the particulars? Clothes, identification, admittance paperwork? It has to be as authentic as we can make it.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “That is an unusual request.” he paused again and raised his palm.”There’s no doubt you could pull it off. I mean, you look fantastic!” Luka cleared his throat. “For the part, I mean. I’m trying to say that you’d fit right in with the right clothing and no makeup. No offense.”

“None taken?” 

“That was kind of a backdoor compliment. Sorry, sometimes I trip and land face down on my suaveness.”

“Yes—well. I’m sure that has stung a little in the past. You don’t seem to have much of a suaveness cushion.”

“What’re you both laughing about?” Lubora interrupted. “Who is she, Luka?”

“This is Zora Karavich, Lubora.”

“So–”

“She’s with O.B.I”

“O.B.I?”  

Luka lowered his head and looked at Lubora with an upward gaze. “Zora heads the Oversight Bureau of Investigations. You know, Lubora, those little inspections we have every now and then to ensure the facility runs smoothly–and courteously.”

“Oh.”

Zora’s bracelets ticked as she signed to Luka. She finished with a quick glance in Lubora’s direction.

“She said your classes start on Monday, Lubora.”

“Classes?”

“Yes, instead of her asking for your resignation. She’s requested you take a year of anger restraint and two years of sign language.”

Lubora raised her finger, and her mouth opened slightly before Luka interjected. “At your expense!”

Lubora shrank back into her chair and nervously cleared her throat. “Tell her I said thank you.”

To be continued: