Under the Willow Root

Chapter 58

I wander through darkness without wondering where I am. It seems completely natural to be without sight. I wonder if I have a body. I touch my hands together. It seems like I do, but how can I really be sure?

The dark is restful and calm. I feel relief, but I don't know what I've been relieved of. Whatever it was, it must have been exhausting. I must have come from somewhere else. I don't think I want to go back.

I don't realize I've been without sound until a faint but familiar melody fills the heavy silence surrounding me. I turn my head, trying to locate its source. It seems to come from everywhere...and nowhere. I am nowhere.

"I will tell you fairy tales

and sing you little songs

but now you must slumber,

with your little eyes closed

bayushki bayu."

I know the words. I know the voice. And once I know that, I know myself again.

"Babulya!" I yell. "Baba Nadia, where are you?"

I cast around in the dark until I smack my head on something hard. I reel backwards and trip over something else. I throw my hand out and hit something, and suddenly light flares overhead, blinding me all over again. Somewhere above me, the song continues.

"There will be a time, after you will learn about life,

When with courage you will place your foot into the stirrup

And take your rifle

Throw your saddle across your horse

I will sew this saddle from silk.

Sleep now, my dear little child, my little one.

Bayushki bayu."

I look around with watering eyes and gasp. I'm in my own kitchen, and the hard thing that attacked me was an open cabinet. I run for the stairs, calling hysterically for my grandmother.

"I will fear for your troubles

far away in a foreign land

Sleep now, as long as you don't know sorrows,

bayushki bayu.

When preparing yourself for the dangerous fight

please remember your mother

Sleep, little one, my beautiful

bayushki bayu."

I burst into my childhood bedroom, tripping over my own feet in my hurry, and fall onto the old rug where I used to play with my toys. My grandmother sits in a shabby armchair next to my bed. Baba Nadia gazes tenderly at something in the bed as she sings. I look closer and realize that the thing in the bed...is me. A younger me, maybe ten.

"Baba Nadia," I say uncertainly.

"Sasha," she says, turning to me with a radiant smile. "Oh, Sashka, kotik, I've been waiting for you."

"But..." I put a hand out to touch her knee. "Baba Nadia, am I dead?"

"No, kitten," she says. "I'm dead."

"But you're here," I say. "I don't understand. You're right here with me. How?"

"Nevermind that," she says. "There's a more important question to be answered."