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Its fight for life had begun.
They were taking Jonas. My beautiful, sweet brother who shooed bugs out of the house instead of stepping on them, who gave his little ruler to splint a crotchety old man’s leg.
Have you ever wondered what a human life is worth? That morning, my brother’s was worth a pocket watch.
What about me? I was frightened, too.
Why a priest? But then... why any of us?
I planted a seed of hatred in my heart. I swore it would grow to be a massive tree whose roots would strangle them all.
She pulled out a tube of lipstick and, with a weak hand, applied the melted color to her lips.
“You know what?” said Jonas. “Looking at the sky, it’s like I’m lying on the grass at home, in Lithuania.”
He was plump on Soviet food, eating from the hand that strangled us each and every day.
I had no tears. The sensation of crying would fill me, but my eyes would only dry-heave and burn.
It was at gunpoint that I fell into every hope and allowed myself to wish from the deepest part of my heart.
“My point is that we’re dealing with two devils who both want to rule hell.”
I drew my little brother taller, his face somber.
“Not my children,” whispered Mother. “Please, God, spare him. He is so young. He’s seen so little of life. Please ... take me instead.”
“Take care of these two, okay? Your father and I are counting on you,” said Andrius. Jonas nodded.
