Remaining Faithful
By: Rebekah Gorham
The
constant banging continues to go forth. What I don’t understand is why me? Why
any of us? All I am doing is having faith, and what’s wrong with faith? In
these times faith is actually what we need. My father gulps scared as he walks
towards the door. What will become of my family? Papa’s hand grasps the door,
and he stops. I try to imagine some of the thoughts that are rummaging through
his mind. Papa sighs as he tightens his grip around the knob, and turns it. The
door opens with such force that it pushes Papa to the ground with a thump.
“Papa!” Katyusha and I frantically scream as we rush to Papa’s side. Katyusha’s
little arms wrap themselves around Papa’s torso. The winds return to Papa as
his eyes blink open with disbelief.
“Davai! (Russian for go on, keep moving)”
One of the officers yells as he walks in the room, others following behind him.
His deathly grip strangles me as he lifts me to my feet. I choke and my throat
starts gurgling. “Stop!” yells Papa. “The child has no decision on the matter,
but it is I who will make the decisions for my family.” The officer drops me
from my collar, and I tumble to the floor. The officer rummages through our
kitchen drawers, taking the silver cutlery that once belonged to my now dead
grandmother. His cigarette drops from his mouth on to the floor; it leaves a
black scar on the floor. The thick toe of his boot smashes the light out of the
cigarette. Like that cigarette we were going to get the light taken out of us,
we were going to be smashed cigarettes.
The officer walks
towards a table, and takes a seat on my father’s chair. He mutters in Russian, “Do
sit.” Father stands up, and he discreetly walks towards the officer. “Sit.” He
says loudly as he gestures towards the chair. Papa obeys. The officer’s tone
isn’t as cruel or harsh as it was before. It is quite strange how someone could
change over a matter of seconds.
The officer places
a paper upon the table. His wide fingers slowly slide the paper, across the
table, towards Papa. Papa looks down at
the form. The officer’s finger flicks a pen across the table. “Sign and I will
grant you your freedom.” The officer taunts. Father lightly places the pen back
on the paper, and he pushes the form back to the officer. “Sir if you do not
sign this paper, you and your daughters will have to be deported.” He says
confused. Father stands up, and he wraps an arm around each of me and Katyusha’s
shoulder. “My apologies sir, but I cannot sign this form.” The officer is stricken
by surprise. “You would rather be deported then have freedom?” He asks with a
raised eyebrow. “Officer I do not wish to be deported, but I cannot disobey my
god either.” My father says as he raises his arm up to the heavens. “Very well
then.” He grumbles. “Twenty minutes to pack!” He shouts. His tone has changed
once again.
An hour later my
sister, Papa, and I stand in front of one of the cattle carts. Papa had to
bribe an officer with his wedding ring, a pocket watch, and a gold chain to
stay with us. I look up to the evening night’s sky. The stars are twinkling
brighter than they have ever been before. God please help me. Please help me to
stay faithful to you.
