ROMANOGERS: PAST TO PRESENT

Chapter Forty One

"Very good. You are very wise for your age."

The next scene was of an eight year old Natasha.

She held a picture in her hand and the bag she had taken from the fire was resting on the mattress next to her. Natasha's hair was much longer now and her cheeks weren't as full. Her lips had taken on a new shape and her eyes sparkled more. She was maturing. A knock on the door startled her as well as me. Ivan entered glancing at her and then the picture.

"That really is a lovely picture. Would you mind if I borrowed it for the time being?" Ivan winked and Natasha not questioning his motives handed it to him. From the looks of things he had asked about looking at the other items from her past. Natasha stood smoothing the simple navy dress she wore. It was strange to see her wear one so willingly, but it complemented her hair and eyes.

"Ivan. I saw the letter on the table." Bitterness coursed through her veins and dripped from her words. Ivan sighed pressing his lips into a thin line. "I thought you retired! They're going to redeploy you!"

"Not permanently no. I'll still be able to come home each night. It's only for the time being, yes?" He assured. My heart was heavy and I looked on. Natasha turned her back on him to hide her watering eyes

"I hate those stupid Americans and Germans. Everyone's afraid now. That the Germans will come back, and that we now have to be afraid of the Americans even if they don't know it yet!" She growled angrily.

"Natalia!" Ivan chastised. "The Americans helped us and people have a right to still fear the Germans! We've only been at peace for a few simple days!"

"You got my picture Ivan now I want to be left alone." Ivan looked like he wanted to say more. Turning on his heel he left Natasha and the sound of the door closing allowed a flood of tears to stream down her face. I understood her pain. She was afraid she was going to lose someone else she cared about.

Natasha was eight still but I assumed she was closer to nine years now.

She was running through the streets a police officer running after her and shouting. She smirked at him over her shoulder that same smirk she often flashed me, and slipped into a side ally. It came to a dead end and expertly she scaled the wall like she had done this before. Maybe she had. I felt completely relaxed about the situation meaning she did too. Slung over her shoulder was a large sack full of what looked like produce. Turning she jumped up and climbed onto the roof of a building and began running across its tiles.

With a laugh and the wind whipping her hair she leapt the gap and landed on another roof. She was agile and muscles bulged under her small arms. Eventually she paused resting for a moment before opening the bag. Inside were two water melons, three apples, a loaf of bread, and a round of cheese. Smiling she walked to the edge of the roof and leapt off the side. Turning in mid air she caught hold of a window sill. Knocking on the glass it soon slid open and she clambered inside. Waiting for her were a bunch of young kids. It seemed to be an orphanage. All of them were skinny and sick looking. Natasha beamed at them holding up the bag of goods. A twinge of sympathy tugged at my heart. I knew why. They were orphans just like Natasha.

She pulled out the loaf of bread and directed the kids into a line. She divided it amongst them then moved on to the cheese, then the apples, and as a "treat" the watermelon which she carved with a knife in her waist band. With a wave good bye she slipped out the window and scrambled across the roofs until she reached a familiar house. Slipping inside she rested the bag on the table. Ivan stood waiting with a frown on his face.

"What did you take this time?" He asked not at all his usual friendly self. Natasha shrugged as if it didn't matter.

"A loaf of bread, some cheese, three apples, and two watermelons. Oh! I brought one home for you! I know it's your favorite." She smiled running over to the bag. Ivan sighed shaking his head but he didn't look as angry.