The Memory Keeper of Kyiv

by Erin Litteken

Birdie hadn’t talked in fourteen months, one week, and three days. No reason why today should be any different.

“No.” Anna drummed her fingers on the table. “She’s never planted sunflowers. She always told me they made her too sad.”

Ukraine is fertile and plentiful, and Stalin thinks we should be the breadbasket of the Soviet Union,”

Everyone wants Ukraine’s fertile soil for their own, and nobody wants to let Ukrainians rule it.”

Bobby turned to face Cassie and closed her eyes, as if retreating into herself. Her voice broke as she translated the words into English. “Just make it through today, and hope tomorrow will be better.”

“He seeks to crush us, to take away our spirit and everything that is Ukrainian. He sends in his activists, his Party, and his OGPU henchmen. These Twenty-Five Thousanders! Fools from cities who don’t know a wheat kernel from an ear of corn, brought here to make us join their collective farms. They try to tell us how to farm. Bah! Then, they take our priests, teachers, and our leaders. Our brothers, sisters, and neighbors! Stalin’s men arrest them without a trial and deport or shoot them.” Tomas slammed back the shot and banged down his cup as he looked at each person in turn.

“You must survive this and tell the people of the world what has happened here, so it doesn’t happen again. Use your pencil and paper and weave your beautiful words to keep our memories alive. Don’t let me die in vain, Katya.”

“This is not about getting us to produce more food,” he said, as the impossibility of survival suddenly became so painfully clear to both of them. “They want us all dead.”

What did she want now? Guilt-stricken and confused, she remained awake, her mind filled with traitorous thoughts about the man she held in her arms. Her brother-in-law. Her husband.

Tears filled her eyes. Katya couldn't see it anymore. She used to see it as clear as day. Now, Pavlo’s face blurred with Kolya’s and confused her. I want flowers all around the house. Poppies and sunflowers. Then we shall plant them. She pressed her lips against the journal cover and let the words inside soak into her soul. Her memories. Her love story. Her Pavlo.

“Maybe. But what’s done is done, and I can’t change it now. I can only say this: I made a mistake in thinking I could bury it all. Looking to the future doesn’t mean you have to forget the past. You can have both, Cassie, and be all the richer for it.”