Last Walk Around the Block
There was nowhere in the world Mila would rather be than in Kyiv. Never mind the shelling, rocketing, and convoy of conscripts barreling towards her city. Kyiv was resilient. It has been for some time. Mila knew that. Yet she worried.
It wasn’t so much the destruction that worried her. That action seemed inevitable. It was saying goodbye to the city and leaving it to fend for itself that worried Mila. The city would endure, but change. Mila would change, too. But she knew when she said goodbye, that would be the last time the city would look so beautiful in her eyes. That goodbye would be for every statue, every cathedral and monastery, every emerald dome, every sunrise over the Dnieper.
The choice to fight or evacuate was never presented to Mila. Her father made hasty arrangements to get them out of the city and into Poland. The original plan was to drive. But gas shortages made that difficult. Now they waited for a bus or train. Mila’s father prayed for their safe passage. Mila prayed for God to come down cup their hands around her city, ordnance exploding in the wrinkly folds of a knuckle or two.
When her father’s phone rang early one morning, Mila felt weightless. She stared at the phone on the coffee table, vibrating. Her father was collecting documents upstairs. There was no way he heard the phone. Mila walked to the table. She silenced the call. She opened the call history. She blocked the number, deleted the history. She placed the phone on the table.
“I’m going for a walk around the block,” Mila shouted up the stairs to her father.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” her father replied.
“I’ll be back in five minutes, okay?”
“Can you bring me my phone before you go? I think it’s on the table.” Mila looked across the room. She walked over and grabbed the phone. No new calls. She thought about how to look casual, look as if she hadn’t done what she did, look innocent. She got to the top of the stairs, held the phone with an outstretched hand.
“Here it is,” she said.
“I’ll be right there,” her father said.
“I’m leaving it on the landing.”
“Okay. Thank you, dear.”
Mila walked out the door. She never came home again. But she remains in Kyiv forever.
