Free Wave of Terror by Theodore Odrach Page B

something more positive. Springtime was several months away, and that time of year always inspired change and he thought that perhaps he could make plans. But today was only the twenty-third of December and how could he go about making plans when the land was still buried in snow, and more was coming, judging from the dark clouds looming overhead? And what would spring bring anyway?
    Then again from behind the window came that same shrill, bird-like cry. Kulik raised his head and listened. But now he heard another kind of noise, this time voices, men’s voices, and they appeared to be inside the school, in the grade one classroom. One voice rose above the others but was completely unintelligible. Then more sounds: howling, knocking, wailing. After about five minutes everything quieted and there came a rush of feet, then the shuffling of benches and desks, the banging of doors. How could there be so much disruption in the school at this late hour and with all the classes cancelled? Feeling somewhat unsettled, he quickly rose to his feet and in the dark groped his way along the corridor to check out the first grade classroom. Opening the door he was startled to find it empty. Striking up a match, he noticed the teacher’s desk stood exactly where it always stood and the benches and desks had not been disturbed; rather, everything was in perfect order, precisely the way Paraska had left it the evening before.
    “How strange,” he muttered to himself, “I could have sworn I heard noises.”
    He returned to his bedroom, stopping now and then to listen. Once he thought he heard a woman scream, then he was certain he heard a tapping on the wall. He went to his door, straining for several minutes to hear even the slightest murmur; but there was only silence.
    When the clock struck midnight, he put on his pajamas and sank into bed. He lay on his back, wide awake, thinking of nothing. Two hours went by, then another two, and though he was exhausted, he could not fall asleep. Finally he saw dawn approaching. With each minute his room grew lighter. He felt the sense of relief that comes when the invisible becomes visible. His eyes wandered across the ceiling. It was painted a blue-gray, like slate, and it was filled with cracks and peeling plaster, and over the door there was a big yellow water stain. At the far right corner, a dark smudge no more than a few centimeters long, caught his attention. He was surprised to see it move. He realized it was not a smudge, but a spider weaving a web. This struck him as strange. A spiderweaving a web in the dead of winter when there is nothing for it to trap? Although he was not superstitious, this made him uneasy; he could not help but feel it was a bad omen. Something was about to happen, he could feel it with all his heart and soul, something terrible. But what? He was paralyzed by a sudden knock on the door.
    Three men barged into his room. They wore dark gray overcoats and high leather boots; rifles were strapped over their shoulders. Kulik recognized two of them: Iofe Nicel Leyzarov and Leon Kuzikov. The third he had never seen before, but the insignia on his arm made clear that he was a lieutenant in the NKVD. Leyzarov and Kuzikov scanned the room hurriedly. Leyzarov said to Kulik, “Well,
da
, we’re here to inform you that we will be occupying the school for the next two hours.”
    At that moment there was a great bustle outside the door; people could be heard tramping up and down the hallway. Voices rose and fell; and there appeared to be great confusion. There was crying and wailing that grew louder and louder. Then came the sound of a woman screaming, barely coherently: “Where are they taking us? Why is this happening? Oh, Lord, what have we done?”
    Kulik recognized the voice of Timushka. Soon from outside came the clatter of horses. Peering out the window, he saw there were about ten of them, all hitched to large wooden sleighs lined up along the road. Something gripped his