“To hell with your car!” screamed the militiaman.
After the bus sped off, two militiamen wearing handkerchiefs over their noses and mouths stood together, looking at a man who had just driven up.
“KGB guard from the Belarussian border.”
“How can you tell?”
“He’s driving a Zhiguli instead of a Volga, and when he opened the window, I saw his green uniform.”
“He didn’t leave the window open long.”
“Not with this smell in the air. It’s like eating coins.”
Militiamen and plant guards moved aside as several buses rolled through the crossroads and headed down the road to Pripyat.
“I wonder how many buses are coming,” said one militiaman after the buses drove off. “Those came all the way from Kiev.”
“Yes, I saw the markings.”
“I wish I was in Kiev.”
The militiamen went silent, glancing at the KGB border guard in his green uniform who had gotten out of the Zhiguli and begun questioning plant guards.
The dashboard of the car was covered with a wet towel, and wet rags were stuffed into the side vents. From the back seat, Juli could see the road between Marina and her boyfriend, Vasily. Vasily’s hair was dark, like Mihaly’s. Despite black smoke obscuring the horizon, everything looked normal outside. A couple walking a dog, and a man on a bicycle, a school in session, brightly-lit inside with students raising their hands to a teacher at the front of the classroom.
“It’s an upside-down world,” said Vasily. “In some places, people are in a panic. Like at the hydrofoil dock on the river when they found out the run to Kiev was cancelled. But in other places, people go about their daily business.”
Vasily had come to the apartment to get Marina. He was aware of an explosion at Chernobyl, but because of the news blackout, did not know any details. Vasily was driving them the few blocks to Mihaly’s apartment to find out if Mihaly was home, to find out if Nina was there, to find out anything they could. To convince Vasily to take them, Juli had voiced her concern for Mihaly’s little girls, children who would be most susceptible to radiation.
So long as they sealed the car and stayed inside, they would be as safe as in the apartment. Juli held the dosimeter up to the light.
Forty millirems, another ten while they ran to the car, or inside the car because of Vasily’s drive from the village on the other side of the Chernobyl plant. Juli would check the dosimeter every few minutes. If there were increases, she would tell Vasily to hurry back to the apartment.
A militia car rushed past in the opposite direction, ignoring Vasily’s high speed.
“I saw plenty of them while driving here,” said Vasily. “The militia speeding around like maniacs. City workers washing streets.
No wonder some people assume everything is normal.”
“What was it like nearer the plant?” asked Juli.
“Never mind how it is near the plant,” said Vasily, briefly turning to Juli in the back seat. “You can’t go there!”
“I know,” said Juli. “I simply wondered.”
“Some private cars, all heading for Kiev. I saw people walking south. They carried suitcases. One farmer leading his livestock looked like Noah going to the ark. There were buses lined up on the side of the road outside Pripyat, but there didn’t seem to be a plan.
When I saw firemen with masks, I kept everything shut up and even tied on the handkerchief. Momma and my sister are doing what you did. All sealed up inside the house.”
“But you live closer to the plant,” said Juli.
“I know,” said Vasily.
At Mihaly’s apartment building, all three ran in as fast as they could, went up the stairs, and down the hall. Juli knocked on the door. Knocked again more loudly. A woman with a cane came out of the apartment next door.
“They went somewhere,” said the woman.
“All of them?” asked Juli.
“The mother and her little girls. I told her I’d watch them, but she insisted. She drove with a neighbor to the plant. They both have husbands there. She left the door open, so I closed it.” The woman glanced at Vasily. “I’m watching the apartment.”
“Did Mihaly Horvath come home this morning?” asked Juli.
“No, I told you. He’s at the plant with Yuri Skabichevsky. Their wives went to see about them. I can see flames from my window.
You want to come in and look?”
“We’re in a hurry,” said Vasily, leading Juli and Marina back to the stairs.
The woman followed. “Only eight days until Easter, and something like this. Thank God my husband works at the radio factory.
Some children went to school, so everything is fine. The firemen are in control. Irina Kiseleva’s husband is a fireman. She is very proud. She told me many technicians are from Russia or Hungary.
She criticizes their aloofness at times, but I always disagree with her… because of my neighbors, the Horvaths. Are you sure you don’t want to look at the fire from my window?”
On their way back to the apartment, Vasily drove through a downtown marketplace to see if there was any news posted. But the board at the entrance to the market street contained nothing about the explosion or the danger of radiation.
“I wonder how the radiation will affect the food,” said Marina.
“Because of the wind, Belarussia will get it worse,” said Juli, looking up at the sky.
“What can be done for the children?” asked Marina.
“They’ll give them potassium iodide.”
“Will it prevent illness?”
“It will help,” said Juli.
Vasily turned the corner at Selskom Market, the largest food store in Pripyat. Instead of an orderly line on the sidewalk, today’s line was thick and spilled into the street. The line undulated and wagged its tail as those farther back moved side to side, looking to the front.
Vasily stopped the car across the street from Selskom Market.
“This is insanity. No children on the streets and not even many women means trouble.”
“Mostly men in line,” said Marina. “Angry men.”
As she said this, a man squeezing out the doorway with a package under his arm was shoved to the ground. The man got up and hurried away, turning to curse at the others. When Vasily put the car in gear, a plump young woman squeezed through the crowd and walked quickly, ignoring the angry stares and calls of those in line.
The woman carried two fishnet bags so full they dragged on the ground. A plump woman…
“I know her,” said Juli. “Her name is Natalya. She works in my building. She might be able to tell us something.”
“Should we give her a ride?” asked Vasily.
“Look!” said Marina. “One of the men from the line is chasing her.”
Vasily drove to the other side of the street and pulled to the curb.
Juli opened the back door. “Get in, Natalya!”
Natalya hesitated a moment, looked behind at the approaching man, then squeezed into the back of the car with her load of groceries. The man shouted, “Jewess!” as they drove away.
“What’s going on?” asked Juli.
“Everyone wants… food,” said Natalya, catching her breath.
“It’s best to get food… now before it becomes contaminated.
Canned foods…”
Juli interrupted. “I meant, what’s going on at the plant?”
