Magda sat stooped on the overturned crate, combing the dirt with her bony fingers.  It was dry and sandy, not like the soil back home.  She rubbed it between her palms, then brought it to her nose.  No, it was nothing like home.“Mama, are you going to give me away?” Magda let the dirt in her hands fall to the ground.  She looked at the small, thin blond squatting in the dust next to her. Brown powder caked his face like a mask.”

“You did not wash today, Alexander.”

“Aunt Sonia said you were going to give me away.”

Magda bit her lip and turned aside.  “Aunt Sonia likes to hear herself talk.”

“See, Alexander, I told you so,” Yuri said.  “Aunt Sonia was only teasing.  Just like when she says she’s going to put us in the garbage for the garbage truck to take, if we are bad.” Magda’s mouth formed a hard line.  “I don’t want to hear any more talk like that.” “People shouldn’t tease, right, mama?” Alexander shaped a mound of sand between his legs and poked holes in it with his finger. “No, people shouldn’t tease.” “Somebody said there is a great big God that lives up in the sky.  Is that a tease, mama?” Yuri asked, pushing dirt onto Alexander’s pile to form a larger mound. Magda glanced at her small, dark haired son.  “Who has been talking about God?”

“One of my friends.”

“What did this friend say?”

“He’s not his friend!” Alexander said.  “Yuri hardly knows him.”

“Well, he’s nice to me, not like some of those other boys who are so mean and always want to beat you up if they think you hide your bread.  Some even
beat you for no reason and—.”

“And once one of them, he was a giant, mama, honest, he tried to steal my shoes, but Yuri and I—.”

“What did your friend say about God, Yuri?”

“He said that God made us, that he made everything.  Did God make us, mama?”

“I have heard it said that God made man out of dirt, but I do not know about such things.”

Yuri smiled.  “God must have used dirt just like this.”

“Well, I have seen your grandfather grow cabbage on rocks.”

“Rocks?”

“Not rocks exactly, but a rocky patch of ground where no one could ever grow anything.  If Grandfather could do that, then why couldn’t God make man

out of dirt? That is, if there is a God.”

“Tell us again about Grandfather’s farm,” Alexander said.

“Yes, tell us, mama.”

Magda began combing the dirt again, digging her fingers deeper.  “I am tired. Enough talk.”

“Please, mama,” Alexander said.  “Just tell us a little.”

“It is useless talking about things that are lost.  It is only pain and sorrow to hold on to the past.”

Magda tightened her fist around the dirt in her hand and felt a sharp prick.  She opened her fingers and saw a piece of glass the size of a raisin, and watched

as blood and dirt mixed. She had seen this before, but that was years ago. Why couldn’t she forget?

“Now see what you made her do, Alexander!”

“I’m sorry I asked, mama.  I didn’t—.”

“Hush, it’s all right,” Magda said.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Yuri asked when his mother didn’t utter a sound.

“Silence is it’s own language, little one.  Complaining is useless.”  She pressed the wound firmly trying to stop the bleeding. The glass had cut deep. “You

will learn soon enough that no one is interested in sharing your pain.”

“Can I see it, mama?” Alexander asked.  “Can I see the glass?”

Magda cleaned the glass on her tattered skirt then held it out for her twins to see.  It was blue-gray, the color of sky before it rains, and sharp on one side.

“I wonder what it’s from?” Alexander said.

“It’s like a seed,” Yuri said.  “It looks just like a big seed.”

“No it doesn’t.  Seeds don’t look anything like that.”

“Once a farmer in the barrack showed off his seeds.  Some of them looked like that.”

“How come he didn’t show them to me, Yuri?  How come you only got to see them?”

“Because you weren’t there.”

“Mama, tell Yuri that’s not a seed.”

Magda sighed.  “He knows it’s not a seed.  He said it was like a seed.”

Alexander watched his mother intently as she jiggled the glass in her hand.  “What will you do with it, mama?  If you’re not going to use it, do you think I
could—?”

“It will be useful for cutting thread when I sew.  I will keep it.”  Magda slipped the glass into her pocket.

“How did it get here, mama?” Yuri asked.

“Maybe if God made everything from the ground, then the ground is where everything must return.”

“But he only made people from the ground.”

“Then,Yuri, there is no answer.  Then this little glass was here for no reason.”  Magda closed her eyes.  Just like they were all here for no reason.  She visualized the blood and dirt. If only all pain could be removed as easily as this bit of glass.  With her uninjured hand, she again began combing the ground. 

“There is no reason,” she repeated.

“Let’s dig for our own glass,” Yuri said.

Alexander’s eyes grew wide. “Maybe we can find other things too.  I bet we can find lots of other things.  Right, mama?”

Magda opened her eyes and looked past the twins.  “You boys wear me out.  Go talk to Aunt Sonia.  She is full of answers.”

“No mama, we want to stay with you,” both boys said.

“Then stay quiet and let me rest.”

The boys watched silently as their mother continued combing dirt.  Soon the young fingers also began sifting the soil. Her movements became theirs, as if

imitation could gain them entrance into her world.

Finally, Yuri turned to his brother. “I think I know why that glass was here.”

“No, you don’t.  You always try to act so smart.”

“Well, I am older.”

“No, you’re not.”

“By five minutes.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“I’m older, and Aunt Sonia said because I’m older I should look after you.”

“Well, I don’t have to do what you say.”

“Yes, Aunt Sonia said so, and she’s smart.  She used to live in a city.”

“Mama, did Aunt Sonia really come from a city?” Alexander asked. 

Yuri jabbed his brother in the arm.  “Shush.  Mama doesn’t want to talk.”

“Aunt Sonia said people that come from the city are smarter than people from a farm.  Is that true, mama?” Alexander said.

Magda sighed.  “Yes, Aunt Sonia came from Cluj, a beautiful city in Transylvania.  And I do not know if city people are smarter than farm people, or if they

just think they are.”

“Did you every see Cluj, mama?” Yuri asked.

Magda cradled her head in her hands.  “No.”

“How come?”

“I just didn’t.”

“He promised I would go for…for my eighteenth birthday. He wanted me to see the monuments and restaurants, the pastry shops.”

“Pastry shops!  I wish I could go to a pastry shop,” Alexander said.

Yuri leaned closer to his mother.  “Why didn’t you go?  If Grandfather promised?”

Magda’s hands squeezed her head.  How could a five-year old understand that that was a thousand years ago when promises meant something?

“I did pass by once, just once.” Magda pictured the dusty back roads clogged with sweaty, tired people fleeing for their lives. “So, perhaps, perhaps in a
way, you could say I saw part of Cluj.”

“Will you take me to Cluj someday, mama?” Alexander asked.

“Well, I…who can know what the future holds?” Magda looked away, not wanting her sons to see the tears that had suddenly filled her eyes.”

“I wish we could go there now,” Yuri said.  “Right now, and leave this place and never come back.  Alexander and I, we hate it here, don’t we Alex?”

The thin blond nodded.

“Yuri, you must never call your brother ‘Alex’ but only Alexander.  It is a noble name, a name he must grow into. And someday…someday he will live up to
his great name.”  

Magda had turned her full attention to Alexander.  She looked into the large, frightened eyes that became even more alarmed by this sudden scrutiny.  He
seemed so small, so helpless. What was she going to do?  Where was this God when she needed him?  She turned away when she felt the tears again.

“Well, it would be nice if we could all go to Cluj right now.” Yuri said.  “All of us, you, and me, and Alexander and Aunt Sonia.”

Alexander nodded.  “Aunt Sonia says—.”

“Aunt Sonia, Aunt Sonia.  I am sick of hearing about what Aunt Sonia says.  Go find her, both of you, and leave me in peace. Just leave me in peace.”

“Mama, I don’t want to find Aunt Sonia,” Alexander said. “Quiet!  Not another word!”

Alexander’s eyes began to fill.  When Yuri saw his brother wipe his tears, he leaned over and kissed him.

“Stop kissing me.  I’m not a sissy.”

“You look sad, little brother.”

“Stop calling me little brother!”

 Magda glanced sideways.  “I did not mean to be harsh.  I am not angry with either of you.  I’m just…I’m just.” Magda sighed and shook her head.  “Go get your mess kits.” 

Top/Bottom

      The line in the mess hall inched forward, and Alexander pressed his mess kit against his protruding ribs and allowed the momentum of the crowd to push him along.  His brother stood to one side, holding back a little, fighting the surge of the crowd as though wanting to control his own steps.

“I still have my bread from yesterday,” Yuri whispered.
“I can never save mine.  I’m too hungry.  How do you do it?"

“I like saving it for you.”

“You think I’m a sissy, just because I can’t help eating all my food.”

“No, Alexander.  Honest!  I’m more of a sissy than you are. I cry more.”

“I had a cut once, as big as the one mama got today, and I didn’t cry, remember?”

“Yes, you were very brave.”  Yuri leaned closer to his brother and whispered, “The bread is in my pocket. I’ll share with you.”

 Alexander wiped his runny nose on his sleeve. “Okay, but I’m so hungry I could eat him.” He nodded toward a burley man, several feet away, ladling

            Yuri giggled as he looked at the large-bellied cook with hairy arms.  “He doesn’t look like he would taste very good.”

            “No, he’s so shaggy, and he…he’s scary.”

“It must be nice to be a cook.  Then you can eat all day long and never go hungry.”

The cook’s stomach protruded beneath the white apron and at times seemed to get in the way of his duty.

“I know why he’s so fat,” Alexander said.

“Why?”

“Because he eats bad boys.”

“He does not.”

“He does so!”

“Who said?”

“Aunt Sonia.”

Yuri shuddered.  “Stay near me and don’t say anything to him, not one word.”

“I will, but I’m not a sissy, Yuri.  I’m only doing it because you asked me.”

            The line slithered forward. A man with bulging eyes argued with the cook, then tried to grab the ladle.  The cook lunged for the man’s throat and barely

missed getting stabbed by his fork.

            “Mergeti!” Magda growled at him. “Go!”

Alexander dropped his mess kit at the sound of his mother’s harsh voice.  As he bent to pick it up, the man with the bulging eyes stepped backward and

accidentally kicked it a few yards away. Alexander fell to the ground, large tears running down his cheeks, and groped the floor in panic.  He could hear the

grumbling of the people in line. He was on all fours now, crawling blindly on the floor, unable to see through his tears.  Suddenly his brother was next to him.

“Take mine,” Yuri said, shoving his mess kit into Alexander’s hand.  “Hurry!  Mama is holding our place.  I’ll find yours.”

People had started to push against Magda, but she held her place until her sons returned.  She looked down at them and smiled sadly.  Her little men in

boy’s bodies.  Childhood stolen. What would their futures be?  How deep would fate’s razor cut into them? She couldn’t think about it.  She didn’t want to

think.

“Let’s eat something,” she said, gently nudging the boys forward.

            A large, hairy hand scooped a ladle full of stew onto each of the boy’s plates, then onto Magda’s.  She watched the last drop of gravy trickle onto her

            “Magda!  Magda, over here.”

Magda looked around.  It was difficult to discern the direction of the voice through the loud, strange talk, the noise of a thousand scraping forks, the maze of

bodies.

“Magda!”  An arm waved and pointed to a table.  “Come! Come!”

Magda groaned when she recognized Sonia, but she and her sons made their way through the crowd to the table where Sonia was.

            Sonia gestured for Magda and the boys to sit, then buried her face in her plate.  An assortment of women and children were clustered around the table but

Magda looked at her own plate.  With her fork she began pushing similar items together; potatoes on one side, peas on the other, the meat in the middle. 

She would eat the peas first.  There were eight of them.  Carefully, like a jeweler mounting a pearl in its setting, she placed one pea on her tongue and let it

melt before swallowing.  One by one the peas disappeared.

But as Magda saw Sonia licking the last drops of gravy from her plate, her fork moved faster.  Here, there were no second helpings.  Quickly the three

potato cubes disappeared, quicker still, the two pieces of gristly meat.  Food in the belly could not be taken away.

            Sonia leaned across her empty plate. “Well Magda, what are you going to do?”

Magda wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and made no reply.

Sonia pounded the table. “Magda!”

            Magda shrugged.  “I don’t know.” She looked at her boys. Her hand went out to touch them, but recoiled midway, like a timid sparrow, and returned to

            “Well, you better decide quickly.  There are other sons, and mothers not so inclined to foolishness.”

            “Foolishness?  My heart is breaking and you call it foolishness?  Do you think it’s easy giving one of my boys away?  I must think of him.”

            “Exactly.  And that is why you must give Alexander to the American.  He will provide a good home.”

            Magda eyed her fair skinned Alexander, his soft, blond curls lying matted over his head.

Alexander’s frightened eyes met hers.  “Mama, are you giving me away?”

“Hush child, this is grown-up talk.”

“But mama—.”

“I said, hush!”

Yuri squirmed beside his brother, instinctively understanding that something important was happening.  He had no way of knowing how such things as the

color of one’s hair or eyes had the power to alter one’s life. Without saying anything, he put his arms around Alexander.

            “Think of your son, Magda, and what’s best for him.  Think with your head, not your heart.  What can you give Alexander? You are a woman alone, a

            Magda’s eyes hardened.  “Men.  Is that all you think of? Did you ever hear me say I wanted a husband?  No!  Once I get back on my feet, I will take

“And just how do you expect to do that?”

“You know the Agency has promised us a new home.  They will relocate us.”

            “It takes time. They say there are still a million of us scattered in camps throughout Europe, all in need of a place to live.  It takes time,” she repeated. 

Then Sonia put out her two hands, palm side up.  “In one hand you have a promise that someday the Agency will help you begin a new life, and in the other

hand you have the means to rebuild your life now.”

“Sometimes I wish I had never met you.”

“Ha! Who would’ve helped you when the Nazis came pouring into our country like sludge from a cesspool?” Sonia spat on the floor. “The murdering,

raping pigs!  Well? Where would you be?”

Magda gnawed her fingers.  “I…I don’t know.”

“Who would’ve helped you deliver your twins?  Did you see anyone stop on the side of the road when you were screaming with pain?  No.  What was one

more woman delivering her babies to the dirty, frightened rabble that passed us?  Only I stopped.  Remember that.  Only I stopped.  I could have left you

there.  You were nothing to me, a stranger.  But I stopped. I stopped.”

“Sonia, please.”

“Please don’t ask me to do this.  You of all people, you who have known my babies as long as I have.”

“Yes, your sons call me ‘aunt’ for a reason.  I have taken care of them, and you.  Aside from you, I am the closest thing to family they have.”

“Then for pity’s sake, let us find another way.”

“There is no other way.”

“There has to be!”

“There is no other way.”

“Why do you keep insisting on this thing?”

“Because you must not let this opportunity pass.”

Magda bit into her lip.  “I would’ve died, my sons would’ve died without you.  I know this.  You have been good to me, to us. But that doesn’t change the

fact that you are what you are.”

“Just what does that mean.”

“I know what a cheat and a liar you can be.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“How much are you being paid?”

Sonia reddened, then smiled slyly.  “Yes, you do know me well.”

“How much?”

“Enough,” she finally said.  “But that isn’t the only reason I speak.  You may not believe this, but I think of you, and of Alexander. This is your best hope.

Don’t ruin it.  This chance will not come again.”

“I need more time.”

            “Soon.  It must be soon.  The American grows impatient.”

***
Top/Bottom

The camp, like a giant kettle, simmered beneath the noon sun and filled the air with the odor of urine and unwashed bodies.

            Magda moved snail-like along the fence, with the boys trailing behind.  She couldn’t get Sonia’s words out of her mind. She pleaded with her brain to stop

thinking, but it didn’t. She closed her eyes.  Words.  Words.  So many words, like the steady drip of a faucet. She squeezed her eyelids trying to stop the drip. 

Too late.  It was seeping through her eyes now, large shimmering drops of water, tears, useless tears that could change nothing.  Still they poured from her.

            Suddenly, she was back in Romania, a daughter of the Carpathian foothills.  She saw the farmhouse, a silhouette against the glowing sunrise, and lush

green vineyards that formed graceful arbors. In front, she saw herself sprouting like a young walnut tree. Then they came, goose-stepping, grinding the sprout

beneath their black boots, leaving the seed of hatred implanted between the torn, crushed limbs.  Both land and girl raped. The withered ruins outlined by a dying

sunset.

Magda tore at her eyes.  Stop! Stop!  But the picture only loomed larger, until her senses were filled with it.  The father unarmed, fighting off many soldiers,

the crack of rifle fire, the burnt smell of gun powder, the red red blood; the screams of anguish, the mother running, the crack of rifle fire, the burnt smell of

gun powder, the red red... .

            Magda moaned, but still it came.  The memory.  Before her lay the bodies of her mother and father, so near each other, their blood puddled around them. 

It was this vision that made everything that followed worse, made surviving seem wrong somehow.  It even came between her and the boys.  Sometimes it made

loving them hard.

            Magda clung to the wire fence.  She tried to get her bearings.  For a moment nothing was familiar. Where was she?  She looked for blood on the ground. 

There wasn’t any.  She looked for sprawled bodies.  She saw only a sentry box in front of her.  She listened for rifle fire but heard a creaking noise overhead

instead. She looked up.  There, swinging to and fro on rusty hinges, hung a sign with large foreign lettering, REFUGEE CAMP 10. Although she could not read it,

she knew what it said.  It said she had no home, no country. She was a person without rights, dependent upon the charity of foreigners.

            Magda walked back toward the barracks, and her boys followed.  No more thoughts. Please, God, if there is a God, no more thoughts. Still they

came. What was she going to do? What would become of her?  What would become of her sons?

            Angry voices distracted her when she entered the barrack. One man, holding a small, bony girl by the pigtails, shouted and gestured with his fist.  Another

man stomped his feet while his jaws opened and closed like a fanning bellow.  Because their language was foreign, she could not tell why they fought. Perhaps the

child was found stealing.  It was a familiar scene; accusations, counter accusations, endless bickering.  There was never any peace.

            Magda hurried into her cubicle, but the angry voices seemed to follow her. She covered her ears with her hands. She wanted to run, somewhere,

anywhere.  If it wasn’t for the exploding pain in her head she might have done so. The long hot walk, her stirred emotions, her near empty stomach, all helped

produce a headache so severe that the slightest flutter of the eyelids intensified the pain. It was this pain that brought her to the cot.

            She didn’t know how much longer she could go on like this. Life was too hard.  She was growing weary of it.  Sonia was right. She had no future.  Could

life be over for her?  She was only twenty-two.

The boys climbed up beside her.  She hardly noticed them, but they watched her intently.

“What’s wrong with mama?” Alexander whispered

“I don’t know.” Yuri mouthed.  “But be quiet!”

Alexander leaned closer to his brother.  “Is mama going to give me away?”

“Shush.  Can’t you see mama’s not feeling well?”

“But Yuri—.”

“No.  Mama would never give you away.”

Magda stretched out, put an arm over her forehead to block the glare from the overhead light that burned day and night.  With her free hand she pulled her

treasured photo from its hiding place in her blouse.

“Look, Yuri, it’s our picture,” Alexander said.

“Hush!”

“I love that picture,” Alexander pressed. 

Magda held the picture up slightly so the boys could see it better.

“I love this picture, too,” she said softly.  “We are so safe in it, so safe.  Nothing can reach inside where we are here and touch us. Nothing can hurt us.”

Magda brought the photo closer to her face as though she were going to kiss it.  “I tried.  I tried so hard.  I’m sorry I could not do better.”

“Mama, don’t cry,” Yuri said. “Please don’t cry.”

            “Magda?”

Magda turned to see Sonia’s head peeping over the tattered blanket that divided their cubicles.

“We must talk.”

Magda shook her head. “Not now. Go away. I’m not well.”

“I promised the American you would make up your mind this afternoon.  He wants to see the boy again, and you must decide.  It is either yes or no.”

            “I need more time.”

“Time has run out.  He is leaving Germany.”

“Stop pressuring me!  I can’t think when you pressure me. And I need to think this out.”

“Think, think, think.  That’s all you say you want to do, but I don’t believe you’ve done much of it.  All you do is put off making your decision.  But the time

for putting off is over.  You must decide.”

Magda pressed the photo to her chest.  “What can I do? What should I do?”

A sound like steam from an iron escaped Sonia’s lips. “How many more times must we go through this?  I’ve told you how much the American wants

Alexander, that he has promised to provide a good home.  And his wife has finally consented to adoption.”

“Then let her find another mother’s son.”

“I’ve already told you how much Alexander looks like this American woman.  No, it is either Alexander or no one.”

“If she can not bear her own sons, then let her go childless.”

Sonia shook her head.  “The American has been stationed in Germany since the Allied occupation.  His tour is up.  He must return to American.  You can

not delay any longer!”

With a trembling hand, Magda slid the photo into her blouse.  “You don’t understand what it’s like.  You have no children.  You can’t imagine…you can’t. 

Why are you so cruel? Where is your pity?”

“You can cry and scream, you can say anything you want, but I will not leave here without an answer.”

Magda looked imploringly at her inquisitor.  “I…I don’t know what I want to do.”

            “Want?  What does it matter what you want?  It is the only way to get money; to buy a chance to live like a human being again, free from this place.”

“Money, money, money!  That’s all you think of.  And now you want me to give up my child for money.  Why should I be surprised?  A woman who sells herself

is capable of selling anything.”

“It was all right when I sold myself to keep you alive.  You did not speak so disapprovingly of me then.  Who got you food when you were as weak as a

lamb, and who got milk for your babies when yours dried up?”

Tears shimmered on Magda’s cheeks.  She quickly brushed them off. “It is true.  I owe you much.  And what I said was mean, hateful…I am sorry.  But

this is different.”  Magda compressed her lips defiantly.  She knew she was drowning.  She could feel herself slipping away.  “You don’t understand.”

“I understand.  I understand that you have a fool’s pride,” Sonia answered, moving closer to the woman on the cot. “You think you have a choice, but you

don’t.  You have no education, no skills. There are so few jobs.  If you’re lucky, you can get employment now and then, where, for a couple of pennies,

you do the work of a man.”

            Magda was sitting up now.  She rubbed her hands together, trying to hide her calluses, but said nothing.  The boys cowered behind her.

            “What’s happening, mama?  Why are you and Aunt Sonia fighting?  What’s wrong?” Yuri said.

Alexander began to cry.

            “Hush, children, Aunt Sonia is about to leave.”  Magda narrowed her eyes at her tormentor, “Go away, you’re frightening my sons.”

            Sonia folded her arms across her chest.  “I will not go until you tell me what you plan to do when winter comes? You have holes in your shoes and no

warm wrap.  How do you expect to survive the first snow?”

“The Agency will give us shoes and blankets.”

“Are you sure?”

“They promised.”

“But are you so sure?”

“What if there aren’t enough to go around? Are you willing to take that chance?  And your boys, will they survive another winter in this place?  Will your

pennies be able to provide for them?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well I know.  I have seen it and so have you.  This is what will happen.  To make up the lack, your sons will begin to steal. They are still young, so at first they

will steal only little things, but as they grow so will their stealing.  And one day they’ll get caught and someone will hurt them badly or send them to jail.  And you,

you will see this coming and think, ‘I must do something,’ so you will follow my trade.  Oh, yes, Magda, you will end up working on your back like the rest of us. 

And one day, when you bring a customer to the miserable little room the Agency will get for you, that customer will see Alexander or Yuri and decide he would

like one of them instead.  This is your future because the only thing you know is farming and the only language you know is your own, and only Romanians speak

Romanian.”

                                                                        ***

Top/Bottom

Magda padded across the dirt yard.  Her temples throbbed. All afternoon she had skirmished with Sonia.  Finally, the confession came.  The American was

getting nervous and had promised Sonia a bonus for each of them if he could have Alexander today. He wanted the boy desperately and was willing to double the

original price.  Sonia was not about to let go of such a large fortune.  She had been relentless.  Tears and curses had not stopped her.  And in the end, Magda

came to the bottom of herself.

Because the officer was leaving, things had to be rushed along.  The American had powerful friends.  The necessary papers were already prepared. The

long, tedious legal process had somehow been bypassed.  All that remained was for Magda to agree, and sign a paper or two.

Magda had cursed Sonia loudly, then she threw herself on the cot and wept.  Her eyes were dry now, but her head still throbbed.  She walked slowly, her

left hand holding Alexander’s, her right hand holding Yuri’s.  Next to Yuri walked Sonia.  All of Magda’s muscles ached with tension.  No one spoke.

Now she could see him leaning against the gate, under the large, white sign that swung to and fro with an irritating metallic sound.  Her heart pounded as she

wondered how they would manage.  She did not speak his language.  It would be awkward. She fought back tears and the urge to turn and run.  This was

not real. This was not happening.  A mother did not give away her child just like that.  Yet Magda knew it happened all too frequently, and many were not

as fortunate as Alexander. They were given to the prostitution rings. At least her son would have a normal life.  She had to believe he would have a

normal life.  Once she had heard someone say, “war was hell.”  It was a half-truth.  The full reality was “war was hell,” and life after war was hell.

            Sonia greeted the American in English.  “Hello, Colonel Wainwright.”

Next to him was a man Sonia had never seen before. He held a clipboard with long pages attached.  Sonia gave him a polite nod, then focused on the

Colonel.  She would act as interpreter.  The tall, lean American smiled weakly as he looked around the camp.

“The boy is yours. The mother has consented,” Sonia said.

            The Colonel’s smile deepened, and he looked at the shy, blond boy.  “Tell her she won’t be sorry,” returned the officer without glancing at Magda. “Tell

her the boy will have a good home in America.”

            Sonia translated for Magda who stared boldly at the stranger, studying every detail of his face, as if by studying his outer features she could determine his

inner ones as well.

“And the money?  Where is the money?” Magda snapped, digging the knife deeper into her own heart, slashing at her guilt and her longing for a normal life. 

“If I am to sell my child, then I must see the money first.”

            After Sonia translated, the American looked at Magda for the first time.  He made no effort to conceal his disgust as he pulled two envelopes from his

pocket.  One he gave to Sonia.  The other, larger envelope, he handed to Magda.

Both women counted their money.  It was all there, just as promised.  With the money Magda could begin a new life.  A new life.  It had cost her only one

son. How she loathed herself.  She looked again at the American Colonel and accepted his disgust as penance.  What did he know about hunger or cold or

depravity, a man so clean and crisp, in his uniform of power?  See how far off he stands, not wanting to get her dirt on him.  But her dirt would get on him,

because it was on Alexander.  Did this Colonel think he could transplant a seed without getting dirty?  Didn’t he know they were all dirty? Cradle and grave,

that’s what the earth was.  She wished she believed in God, then she would have someone she could entrust Alexander’s safety to, then she would have

someone to blame. She had not asked for sons. Sons broke mothers’ hearts.

Magda watched as Sonia stuffed her money back into the envelope.  Her friend was well satisfied. It was more money than Sonia could earn in a year, even

as a prostitute.  When the envelope was safely tucked inside Sonia’s pocket, Magda gave her a sign to proceed.  This business had to be done quickly or

she wouldn’t be able to go through with it.  Hurry! Hurry!

On cue, the man with no name shoved papers in front of Magda.  She signed the designated areas.  Then he nodded to the Colonel that all was in order.

Quickly, Magda pulled out the treasured photo from its hiding place in her blouse and transferred it to Alexander’s pocket. He was Alexander Wainwright

now.  That knowledge terrified her.

“Never forget!” she said in Romanian, then she thrust Alexander’s small hand into the American’s.

“No, mama!” Alexander shrieked, trying to get away from the American’s tight grip.  “Don’t leave me!”

Magda backed away, gasping for air, suffocating on her pain.  She tried to pull Yuri with her, but he yanked his hand from hers, and before anyone could

stop him, he threw his arms around Alexander and kissed him.  Large tears streamed from the dark, almond eyes as he began to comprehend what was

happening.

“Don’t worry, little brother,” he whispered.  “Some day we will see each other again.”

Then Magda took Yuri by the hand and led him away.

It would be okay. She would make it okay.  She would survive this, even this, she told herself, as she walked briskly across the dusty ground.  She walked

faster and faster, almost running, almost carrying Yuri, trying to flee from the woeful cries of the little son she would never see again, a little son carried away

by an American, carried away forever. Yes, life after war was hell.

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