5

it was november, and the mornings were dark. they had covered their windows with blankets to keep out the cold, but in doing so they also kept out the light.

what light? thought tatiana, as she slowly made her way from the bed to the kitchen with her toothbrush and peroxide one morning in the third week of november. she used to have peroxide and baking soda, but she had left the baking soda on the kitchen sill one evening, and someone had eaten it.

tatiana turned on the tap. and turned. and turned.

there was no water.

sighing, she shuffled back to her room with her toothbrush and her peroxide and got back into bed. dasha and marina groaned a little.

"there is no water," said tatiana.

when it was nine in the morning and there was light, tatiana and dasha walked to the local council office. an emaciated woman with sores on her face told them that a few days ago power had been cut from the fifth city electric plant because leningrad had run out of fuel.

"what does it have to do with our water?" asked dasha.

"what pumps the water?" asked the woman.

dasha, slowly blinking, said, "i give up. is this a test?"

tatiana pulled her sister by the arm. "come on, dasha." she turned to the woman. "the power will be restored, but the pipes will have frozen for good." she spoke in an accusing tone. "we won't have water till the spring thaw."

"don't worry," said the woman, going back to her business, "none of us will be alive in the spring."

tatiana asked around the fifth soviet building and found out that the first floor had water - there just wasn't enough pressure to pump it all the way up to the third. so the next morning tatiana went down to the street and got a bucket of snow to carry upstairs. she melted the snow on the bourzhuika and used that water to flush the toilet. then she went back down to the first floor and got a bucket of clean cold water to wash herself and dasha and mama and marina and babushka.

"dasha, can you get up and come with me?" tatiana said to her sister one morning.

dasha was still in bed under the covers. "oh, tania," dasha mumbled. "it's so cold. it's too hard to get up these days."

tatiana couldn't get to the hospital before ten, sometimes eleven, by the time she was done with the water and the ration store.

they had no more oatmeal left, just a little flour, a little tea and some vodka.

and three hundred grams of bread a day each for tatiana, dasha, and mama, and two hundred grams of bread each for marina and babushka.

dasha said, "i'm gaining weight."

"yes, me, too," mouthed marina. "my feet are three times their normal size."

"and mine, too," said dasha. "i can't fit them into my boots. tania, i can't go with you today."

"that's fine, dasha, my feet aren't swollen," said tatiana.

"why am i swelling up?" dasha said in a desperate voice. "what's happening to me?"

"to you?" said marina. "why is it always about you? everything is always about you."

"what is that supposed to mean?"

"what about me?" exclaimed marina. "what about tania? that's the trouble with you, dasha - you never see other people around you."

"oh, and you do, you bread-eater? you oatmeal-eater. wait till i tell tania how much oatmeal you stole from us, you thief."

"i may be hungry, but at least i'm not blind!"

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"girls, girls!" exclaimed tatiana weakly. "what is the point of this? who is swelling the most? who is suffering the most? you both win. now, get into bed and wait for me to come back. and be quiet, both of you, especially you, marina."