“What? How could that happen?”
“Well, us Americans can be wonderful people if given all the facts. They covered his story on TV, and the truth caught folks with big hearts and a willingness to help. They started a GoFundMe page for her and with that money, she was able topay for her medical treatments here before returning to be with her husband in Tijuana. Exactly what my father would have wanted.”
“Your father sounds like a good man. My Tato would have liked him.”
Hoping to keep the conversation flowing, Ana asked, “What wasyourfather like?”
Hanna sniffed but answered. “As a farmer, he struggled all his life. He and my mother were a team. But they made me see that my future should be different. For me, they wanted a better life and so they sent me to a private girls’ school starting in the sixth grade. Then the war arrived, we lost everything and were forced to move into a tiny village where Tato still owned his mother’s old house. I remember it reeked of cats and there were kittens everywhere nearby.”
“Did you have a kitten?”
“Yes. Daria. We kept her in the house, but many of the kittens became feral because food was scarce.” Hanna’s expression underwent a breakdown – from thoughtful to distressed. “I almost killed her.”
Sudden tears welled up and over. Swiveling to face Ana, wet eyes wide, Hanna added, “I didn’t mean to. I’d never hurt my beautiful Daria on purpose. When Tato and Mama made me go into the enclosure he’d built for me to hide in, I refused. But because there was no time to argue, he forced me inside and then threw our kitten into my hands to make me behave.” Her bottom lip began quivering as she explained. “I held her so tight; I almost strangled her.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No. She lived. But she never returned. She ran away.”
“You frightened her.”
“Yes. I don’t know if it was from squeezing so hard or because I turned into a crazy person myself, and she panicked.”
Ana swerved over to stop the car and reached for Hanna’s hands. Holding them tightly, she asked, “What could you have done differently that day?”
“I don’t – I don’t know.”
“Okay… then what do you regret the most?”
“Not dying with my family.” Her instant response gave credence to her words.
“Hmm. I get that you love and miss them. But did they want you to die with them? Or would your death have made theirs less worthy. Think about it. Having no one to remember them by, to have kind thoughts about their bravery. I’m of the mind that your dying would have been a waste.” Ana watched Hanna’s tears stop falling. Then she saw the girl swipe her hand across her face.
Before Hanna could reply, Ana hit her with the question that she prayed would make a difference. “More important, Hanna… what doyouthink?”
Hanna stared at Ana, but their eyes weren’t connecting because Hanna was a million miles away. Ana sat waiting, letting the girl absorb what had been said. As she watched the girl relive the last moments of her parents’ lives, she noticed that her shoulders relaxed and the stiffness in her neck muscles softened.
“Tell me.” Ana wanted the girl to put in words what was in her mind. Ana knew that the best way to start drawing pus from a wound was to continually add warm compresses. If Hanna speaking her pain took the place of those treatments, then the more she talked, the better chance the wound of bitter memories had not to become too infected.
“I can’t stop thinking about those last moments. When they were still alive. They didn’t give me a chance. Mamo slapped me to stop my arguments. And Tato forced me into the enclosure. They both did. I wanted to stay with them… die with them.”
“What did they say to you? Their final words I mean.”
Hanna hung her head, unable to look Ana in the face. Embarrassed, she muttered, “Tato said the Russians kept young girls alive for a reason… so for me it would be worse than dying.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Yes. Now I do. I’ve watched the news reports and read even more online about that kind of thing. I guess my father and mother knew what would happen and couldn’t stand the thought of me getting raped.”
“Good. Say it the way it is. Raped. Yes, that’s probably what would have happened. But, then what? Do you honestly believe that after they were finished doing God knows what to your body, they’d have let you live?”
Suddenly, Hanna’s face rose with an expression of clarity in her eyes. “One man would have… yes. He’s the one who held his finger in front of his mouth, warning me to stay quiet. He wouldn’t have hurt me. I know it.”
“But you said there was another soldier with him who would have, right? He’s the one your hero shot to save you.”
“He did.” Tears began to choke Hanna, making her words hard to understand. “Then he sh-ot himself.”
“Excuse me?”