Burying the Sun by Gloria Whelan Read Free Book Online Page B

He began to laugh. “Nichevo,” he said to the policeman. “It is just a misunderstanding. I have no time to waste in a police station.” He turned to us. “The next time you go spy hunting, use the sense God gave you, or all the citizens of the city will end up in jail.”
    Red-faced, we slunk away, trying not to hearthe laughter of the crowd.
    The next day Dmitry reported that Vladimir had gone off on another assignment to the front. Dmitry didn’t know where, but he whispered that he thought it was north toward Finland. “The dirty Finns have joined up with the Germans. Vladimir says they are nearly to our northern border.”
    â€œIf we hadn’t invaded their country, maybe they would have been with us instead of against us,” I said.
    At first Dmitry looked like he was going to start another fight, but then he only shrugged. After our spy mistake a lot of the fight had gone out of us.
    The Germans and the Finns were to the north, and to the west there was the Gulf of Finland with all the German navy. One day we were shocked to hear the sound of cannons firing into the city from the south. There was still Lake Ladoga on the northeast of the city, but our hopes were pinned to the southeast, where the railroad ran from Leningrad to Moscow. Our hope gave out, for on the very day we heard thecannons, the Germans parachuted into the city of Mga and cut off the railroad. My first thought was of Marya. How would she get back?
    â€œWe are like rats in a trap,” I said to Dmitry. “The circle is complete.”
    Now that they had us encircled, the bombing grew worse. Leningrad’s famous roller coaster, the Amerikanskaya gora , went up like like a box of matches. The zoo was bombed, and we could hear the pitiful cries of the animals. Yelena and Olga were horrified and crouched inside with their hands over their ears. Marya and I had ridden on the roller coaster and spent afternoons in the zoo. All that was over.
    It was on the fourth of September, two days before my fifteenth birthday, when the great tragedy happened, changing the lives of everyone in the city. Mama and I were reading a letter from Marya. The postmark had been blacked out, and even though we knew she was somewhere in the city of Sverdlovsk, Marya was not allowed to send a return address. Shesaid she was well and wished she could send food our way. “My children are safe,” she said, and we knew she meant the treasures from the Hermitage.
    As we were reading the letter, I happened to glance out the window. The whole sky was exploding in a firestorm. We ran out onto the balcony. The people on the prospekt were looking to the southwest side of the city, where flames were rising. Mama said what I had been too afraid to say aloud.
    â€œGod help us. They have bombed the food warehouses.”
    It was true. The whole of the city’s supply of food was being destroyed—all the sugar, flour, butter, and meat. All gone. The faces of the people on the street below us were a frightening red from the reflection of the flames. We were all coughing, for the smoke had settled like a suffocating blanket over the city. That morning there had been enough food for the city. By the evening we were all facing starvation.
    The next day we learned the terrible results of thebombing. With the smoke still covering the city, an announcement was made that our rations would be cut in half. In the past, if you had a little extra money there were stores where you could buy what you needed without ration coupons. No more. When Mama went for a loaf of bread, the bakery was closed. For breakfast I had one of Mama’s dried rusks with a little jelly and weak tea. Since the beginning of the war I had been able to eat my fill, but now I was hungry.
    Olga knocked on our door. “Katya, what am I to do? Yesterday I traded my ration coupons for a jar of caviar. I know it was wrong, but the conductor of the symphony is cross