Hazel

Hazel was still wearing her holo-web. It had adapted to her movements and the clothes selected so there was no discernable weird flickering. There was the odd bit of clipping as the gamers would have called it where her hair interacted with it. She had it tied up in a ponytail so those were few and far in between. She was sitting at a small kitchen table with Dr. Popov and his wife, who was apparently also the secretary and gatekeeper for his doctor’s office. They were in the upper floor which had been converted into an apartment. Apparently, his wife did not understand a word of French so that left Hazel in the dark for half the conversation. The woman still seemed concerned about Hazel or something about her.

Hazel had never had borsht before, but she found she liked it, a lot and had finished three bowls before she was full. The soup had warmed her up. The woman took Hazel’s bowl and was heading back to the large steel pot. Hazel shook her head no. The old woman started talking, she was the type of person whose arms and hands never stopped moving when she was conversing. Hazel looked to the doctor.

“How do I say: thank you, but I’m very full?”

He said some words in Russian and Hazel’s translator caught the I’m very full part. She was starting to understand what her mother had meant when she was telling her she needed someone who spoke a language the translator understood and Russian. Hazel looked at the old woman and tried her best to imitate what the doctor said. The woman shook her head and put more borsht in the bowl, this time it was half a bowl. She put it in front of Hazel and motioned to the bowl with her hands.

“Yest.”

Her husband said something to her in Russian the woman shook her head and started talking a little louder at him and he held up his hands saying the same word twice. He shrugged at Hazel.

“She says you’re a big girl and you need to eat to keep up your strength.”

Hazel nodded and ate this bowl a little slower. It was unlike anything she had ever tried before. It was no pepperoni pizza, but it was definitely good. The old woman could cook.

“How do I say: Can you teach me to make borsht?”

The old man chuckled and said the words. Her translator was picking more and more of them up. A few hours of this she’d probably be able to get by, she looked to the woman and repeated what the doctor had said. The woman laughed and put her hands on Hazel’s cheeks. Her translator didn’t catch it and she looked to Dr. Popov.

“She said, of course.”

Hazel smiled at the old woman. The old woman started talking again, though it sounded more like complaining. Hazel looked to Dr. Popov who had waved his hand dismissively to his wife.

“What is she saying?”

“She is saying it is nice to see a young lady interested in cooking and tending home, that she wished our daughter was more like you.”

“You have a daughter?”

“She is a little older than you, she’s in Moscow going to school. She is joining the KGB.”

Hazel nodded. Figuring her translator just couldn’t figure out what KGB meant. Maybe it was some other military branch. He put the cigarette down he had been smoking and walked to a shelf and pulled off a book and put it down on the table. He picked up his cigarette and opened the book and pointed to a picture of a girl who was a much smaller girl then Hazel, but she had very light hair. The photos were in black and white.

“Olga. Our daughter.”

Hazel smiled at him. He closed the book and put it on the shelf again cigarette still hanging from his lips. He adjusted his glasses his thick black rimmed glasses which promptly slid down his nose. Hazel couldn’t help but like this old couple. The woman spoke again, and Hazel’s translator had actually seemed to make some sort of leap.

“She seems like a good girl. I feel bad I thought Alexander brought to you for an abortion.”

Hazel blushed and she responded.

“Oh no, I’m…not like that.”

Both the doctor and his wife looked at her as she spoke fairly decent Russian suddenly. The doctor adjusted is glasses again speaking in Russian.

“Did you hit your head earlier?”

Hazel responded slowly the translator was still taking its time because it was building a database of words as it went.

“No, I am good with languages. I need to hear more French translations of Russian.”

The old man nodded, he spoke in French.

“I will do what I can.”

He looked at his wife and spoke in Russian.

“Get her some clothes that will fit, something warm? Okay? She can help me this afternoon.”

His wife nodded, patted Hazel on the shoulder then started bundling up while Dr. Popov put the dishes in the sink. The old woman finished it off by wrapping some cloth around her hair and putting on a thick fur hat. She walked out of the apartment and Dr. Popov looked at Hazel and spoke in French.

“Come along Greta. Time for you to earn your keep.”

Hazel nodded and stood up. She followed the doctor downstairs and he motioned to one of the rooms and stuff keys into Hazel’s hands.

“If I need something it will be in there. Now come.”

He walked into an office and motioned for Hazel to sit down. Hazel sat in a chair at a desk. He slapped a book and spoke in French then Russian.

“Appointment book.”

Hazel nodded then looked to the Doctor.

“I don’t know how to read this.”

She pointed at the Cyrillic characters.

“I’ll point to the name for you, just cross it out. If we have someone come in looking for emergency help, knock on my door even if I have a patient.”

“Okay. What happened to man you were stitching up?”

The doctor shook his head.

“Someone attacked the missile base. Most they flew out, some we patched up here. He had some shrapnel in his back he didn’t want to admit he was on base, so he paid me under the table. Its how things are done.”

Hazel got a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

“Did…they say who attacked?”

The doctor shook his head.

“No, you know the government always with the secrets. Probably some Americans. It was American bullet I pulled out of one of their shoulder’s. They attack us, we attack them, to think we used to be allies.”

He threw up his hands.

“Sit up, look proper, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So polite. My wife is right I wish our daughter was more like you. First patient will be here in…”

He checked his pocket watch.

“Five minutes. Otherwise just sit there and pretend you know exactly what you’re doing, yes?”

Hazel nodded. He patted her on the back of her shoulders and looked at his hand shaking his head. She saw a very pregnant woman struggling to open the door and she got up and helped her inside. She looked to be in her early twenties. Dr. Popov came out and motioned for her to come inside he patted one of the names and Hazel scratched it off. That is how her afternoon went until two people in blue uniforms came into the office.

“You're new young lady.”

Hazel nodded she didn’t trust her translator to make her not sound suspicious.

“We are here to see Dr. Popov.”

Hazel nodded and knocked on the door, he wasn’t with a patient he was just finishing off some notes. He looked up and Hazel pointed towards the front of the office. He switched his glasses from his reading glasses and stood up and went outside. Hazel sat back down at the desk and made the next week of appointments look very interesting. The pair showed badges to Dr. Popov who motioned to his office.

“No, we won’t be here long Doctor. We were just wondering if any strangers had come for medical attention? Bullet wounds?”

The doctor shook his head.

“No, just the ones that were sent here by the military. Should I be on the lookout for anyone.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“A woman, red hair, small build. She was shot several times. She is very dangerous. Treat her, pretend everything is fine, have your assistant call us.”

She looked at Hazel.

“Then you leave to safety.”

Hazel nodded, she trusted her translator enough for a short answer.

“Yes, ma’am.”

They two KGB agents looked to the Doctor. The doctor was looking at the male agent.

“Of course, I will call you Demitri, if I see or hear anything.”

“New girl? I haven’t seen her around the city before.”

Dr. Popov put his hands on Hazel’s shoulders.

“She’s orphan. Her father died and her mother, her family was killed in the Great Purge. She doesn’t trust anyone. Girl came in half frozen to death. We took her in, I’m trying to help her get on her feet. She is not so good at reading and writing yet, but we’re working on it. With Olga gone to the KGB institute we had space so, whatever we can do for Mother Russia.”

The KGB officers nodded, the woman looked at Hazel.

“Mother Russia takes care of her own, don’t let your mother’s fears ruin your life. Girl like you could go far in the KGB or the Army. Keep your nose clean learn from the doctor.”

Hazel nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

She looked to Dr. Popov.

“Does she have papers?”

“She came to us with nothing, just the clothes on her back, no coat, no mittens. It’s a wonder she didn’t freeze to death.”

The female KGB agent looked at Hazel.

“What’s your name?”

“Greta is the only name I know to give you.”

She looked to the Doctor.

“You believe her?”

“Yes.”

She looked at Hazel again.

“She seems polite enough, is she well behaved?”

“Yes, quite smart too, she speaks fluent French and Russian. Her reading needs some work as I said, but that will come with time.”

The female KGB officer looked at her partner, then down to Hazel, then back to the doctor.

“Bilingual is hard to come by in Russia. Is she picking up the reading and writing?”

“Very quickly.”

She patted Hazel on the shoulder.

“We’ll see about those papers. Greta Popov?”

The doctor shrugged.

“Whatever you think is best Melena. I’m still holding out hope we can find a living relative. I was sure I had her mother’s name on file but cannot find it. She came to me before the base was built, would trade things from her garden for treatment. I cannot turn someone away. You know how the people are out there.”

“You always had soft heart Dr. Popov. Better they get help then not. We should come back and discuss how we can get them more help without making them feel like they cannot come to you.”

“We’ll have our eyes on you, Greta. Dr. Popov and his wife are well liked here, if you cause them trouble…”

Hazel shook her head.

“I wouldn’t.”

“Good. We’ll be in touch with those papers and ID. Glad you survived your ordeal Greta.”

The two agents pulled on their thick mittens and put their heavy hats on and Dr. Popov escorted them out. He came back in looking Greta over.

“You think quick on your feet. Most adults would start to sweat if they had KGB looking at them so closely.”

Hazel shrugged.

“I have done nothing wrong.”

“As I told you this morning, everything in Russia is complicated, sometimes doing nothing wrong isn’t enough. Come let’s clean up. Workday is almost over.”

Hazel nodded and tidied up the desk. He did the same in his office. Putting the case with his reading glasses in his pocket. He motioned her to follow and they went to the various treatment rooms emptying waste bins and refilling supplies.

“At the end of the day this will be your job. Yes?”

He showed her the sterilization equipment.

“We sterilize everything we use. The things with biowaste we incinerate. Yes?”

He held up a paper bag. And led Hazel to the incinerator. He showed her how it worked and while it was heating up looked at her.

“KGB spies on us as much as they spy on other governments. The revolution, the purges, have left bad taste in some people’s mouths. Things have been better since the war, but it is still the Soviet Union. Russia is Russia, it has always been and will always be, communist or not. Tsar, Stalin, or Politburo. All the same, government says, people do, everyone but the rich or powerful suffer. Maybe less now than before. But the Russian people endure. So, when you’re walking around, be Russian. Yes?”

Hazel smiled and nodded but she had no idea what he was talking about.

“You don’t like the KGB much.”

“My wife would say I don’t like anyone.”

He shrugged.

“But your daughter is joining the KGB.”

“She is pretty, she is smart, of course they recruited her. She is a believer in the Communist Agenda. Had picture of Stalin on her wall, quoted Lenin, Marx. Easy to do when you didn’t live through the purges before the war.”

“What war?”

“The World War?”

Hazel blinked, she thought that was a movie construct. She’d never imagined people killing people on that sort of scale. She leaned on the wall as she realized that mean the German prison camps, the Jewish people, all of it could be real.

“Your mother did not teach you about it?”

“I thought… I thought it was just made up. That means the Germans really did all those terrible things.”

“All sides did terrible things. Greta.”

“I just can’t believe people who do that to each other on such a…unthinkable scale.”

He patted her on the back. And put the waste I the incinerator.

“It was before you were born. They tell us the world is better now. As if weapons that can lead to the end of the human race are a good thing. This talk is best left for drunken ramblings, so we forget in the morning. Come, my wife will be back with fresh clothes and supper will be ready soon.”

Hazel followed him up to the living area of the building. She smelled more soup in the air, different kind this time though. He opened the door and motioned for her to go first, and she did. The doctor’s wife who Hazel didn’t know the name of was pulling bread buns out of the oven. She motioned to Hazel.

“Come, come.”

Hazel went over to the old woman who pointed at the sink.

“Wash your hands. Then put out the bowls and plates. Hurry hurry.”

Hazel washed her hands and then after some digging found the requested dinnerware and started putting them out along with silverware. The soup was served. Hazel was surprised to taste another new flavor. Hazel did what her hosts did putting butter on the fresh buns and dipping them in the soup.

“What kind of soup is this?”

The doctor’s wife looked at her as if she were an alien and said two words, which her translator did not catch.

“Kislye shchi”

Hazel looked to the doctor.

“Cabbage soup, or sauerkraut soup more specifically.”

“What is Sauerkraut?”

“Pickled cabbage.”

“Oh, it is really good.”

The old woman smiled at her and offered her more. Hazel whose mother had always accused of being able to eat an entire cow herself, accepted with a polite thank you. The woman looked at Hazel.

“It is so good to see a girl who knows how to eat enough. All the girls these days try and look like this American model they see in those banned magazines.”

“But if they’re banned why are they looking at them?”

Dr. Popov shrugged.

“It is Russia, it is complicated.”

His wife patted Hazel’s hand.

“Its good you don’t try to see such things. The Americans, they are decadent and corrupt.”

Dr. Popov glanced at his wife over his always low glasses but said nothing after she spared him a withering glance. His wife continued.

“We’ll help you get your head on straight, teach you how things really are dear.”

Dr. Popov finished his supper and walked into the living room of the apartment leaving the women together. Hazel started cleaning the dishes up. Something she’d done a few times at her sister Eyre’s home. It was usually her job. She had resented it but then after spending time with the Israelites she came to realize it was part of being in a family. Everyone doe share of the work. Her mother used to take care of everything. She started to wash them. The smell of tobacco started emanating from the living room. Hazel hummed to herself while she went through the dishes. The doctor’s wife had lit up a cigarette and was reading the daily newspaper and drinking a cup of tea. Hazel finished and looked around the kitchen then to the doctor’s wife.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t know your name yet.”

The woman looked up from her paper and removed her reading glasses.

“Kathrine.”

“Err what should I call you.”

“Ma’am, Kathrine, what you feel comfortable with. Your Russian is getting much better.”

“I guess I have heard it enough I just needed a bit of a push.”

The woman motioned for Hazel to join her and poured a cup of tea.

“Obviously your mother taught you well, doing the dishes without even being asked.”

Hazel rubbed the back of her neck.

“Well, if I’m being honest, it was my big sister. My mom used to do everything for me. Thought it was better I learn different things.”

“Where is your sister? Could we contact her?”

“Oh no, I have no idea how to find her, or get in touch.”

The woman nodded.

“My mom and I, we live complicated lives. I mean before this we were in a city on fire, and then before that the desert. We traveled a lot we never get separated but this time…she told me to leave her behind. She’s probably in trouble. But I have no idea where she is or how to help her.”

“Well, when I am lost and do not know what to do, it happens to adults too. Instead of worrying about everything at once, I do what I can. So, we’ll keep an eye out, you will learn Russian better, maybe reading it, you get your papers, you go find this friend of your mother. God willing she’s there. If not, maybe her friend will take you in, and failing that, Alexei and I, we have space. You come back here make a life. You have food, a roof, clothes now. Other things will come in time. You are a young woman. Let the adults handle the adult things.”

Hazel blushed a bit as she sipped her tea.

“I need to apologize I thought you were…urm meaner than you are.”

“It depends on who I’m talking to, Alexei, he may be a doctor but dumb as post sometimes. And Nicholas! Always coming here with younger girls he’s been inappropriate with to clean up his mess. I am glad Olga told him where to go.”

Hazel blinked, and then nodded.

“He did not touch me at all beyond when he was putting his coat around me. The person driving was a terrible singer, but who isn’t?”

Kathrine put out her cigarette and chuckled.

“That is good. I think he was scared of you. You’re bigger than most men.”

Hazel shrugged.

“My mother thought it best I know how to fight and to fight you need to be strong.”

“Your mother sounds like a hard woman.”

“Sometimes but she can be surprisingly compassionate. Unless you go after her or her family, especially her children. She’s kind of cold since my… baby sister was killed.”

Kathrine put her hand on Hazel’s.

“Death of a child is hard to live with. Sounds like it wasn’t an accident.”

Hazel shook her head.

“Some bad people tried to kill my mother, and got Miko instead. Mom lost it…people got hurt. She said things.”

“She still cared for you though?”

“Not for a while there, but I had…family where we were that did. I knew she needed me so I followed her without her permission.”

Kathrine shook her head.

“That was foolish, Greta. Parents know what is best for their children.”

“I know, that’s what she said.”

“She is right. You have good head on your shoulders but being your age makes you headstrong, like you can take on the world. The invulnerability of youth. But you aren’t you can get hurt like anyone else. I see so many people your age in here or at the hospital for entirely preventable injuries.”

Hazel blushed as she finished her tea.

“Now then. What languages can you read?”

“English, Latin.”

Kathrine quirked an eyebrow at the mention of Latin.

“Do you speak that as well?”

“First language my mother taught me.”

“Not many can say that.”

“Well, I was brought up…in a different place.”

“Sounds like you were brought up by a nun.”

“Well, my mother is very close to God.”

“Religious woman then, strange she wanted you to know how to fight.”

“My mother believes peace can only from conflict…I’m not sure how to describe her beliefs.”

“It doesn’t matter for now. Olga studied English in preparation for joining the KGB, I’ll get out her books. They will help you. This way to the room you’ll be using, its got lots of privacy.”

Kathrine stood up and motioned for Hazel to follow. Hazel was led to the very back corner of the upper floor and Kathrine opened a door and turned on the light.

“Olga’s room.”

Hazel peaked inside. Bed would be tight but they always were. There were posters of communist propaganda. Hammer and sickle. Men she did not recognize. Her book shelfs had books with titles she could not read. A well-used desk dominated one side of the room. On the bed was a pile of clothes sized for her along with some winter gear. Some winter boots. No holo-computer to speak of. Hazel hadn’t seen anything digital here at all. She suspected she was well before her mother’s home time. She looked down to Kathrine.

“Thank you, ma’am, I really appreciate you giving me shelter and food.”

Kathrine patted one of Hazel’s large biceps.

“Sleep, tomorrow we teach and you earn your keep. Everyone who lives under this roof works.”

Hazel smiled and nodded.