Half Life

he did not know much of what she did these days. Her mother was quietly supportive, she told me. And when she got invited to go to Krakow, I felt it was the very first step ahead for her, the beginning of her way out.
“Perhaps you will be seen in Krakow, then hired to perform there next time,” I told her. “If you are making your own money, you could save up, go anywhere in the world you want, with or without your father’s approval.”
She cast her blue eyes to her shiny leather boots. “If only it were that simple, Marya. What would Mama do without me? And Papa would never speak to me again.”
I wanted to tell her that she could make that choice, that there was always a choice. But sometimes, when the night was long and dark and freezing, and Kaz and I had not had enough to eat for dinner, and we lay in bed feeling the never-ending emptiness of our own bellies, I wondered if he missed his family, his parents, the manor house in Szczuki with their chef. I wondered how it would feel to give up your past, your history, everything that belonged to you, and whether I would’ve done the same.
“I have an idea!” Kadi looked back up, her cheeks pink with excitement. “Come with me to Krakow and watch me play.” She knew that the Kaminskis were in the Baltic for a monthlong holiday, and that I currently had four glorious weeks off while they were away.
I laughed a little. “I wish I could.” And truly I did. The idea of getting out of the gray soot-covered Russian-controlled streets of Loksow, and into the Austrian portion of Poland, Krakow, where art and music were supposedly thriving and luminous, sounded wonderful. But Kaz would never want to come—that vibrant world a reminder of his old life and everything he was missing now. Besides, even if he wanted to, we couldn’t afford for him to take the time away from his students unpaid.
“Come on,” Kadi said. “Mama told Papa we are going to visit friends, and he got us a large hotel suite. You could stay with us. It would be so much fun.”
I hesitated for a moment. The truth was, Kaz wouldn’t want me to go alone, without him. It would worry him. If I brought it up we would argue about it, and I would eventually end up giving in to what he wanted, making it easier not to bring it up at all.
But what if I went and didn’t tell him? I had gone by myself to visit Papa and Hela in Warsaw a few times, and we had already discussed that I might go for a visit in the next few weeks while the Kaminskis were away. Could I do that, and take a night or two away in Krakow, too, and Kaz would never have to know? It felt strange, the idea of lying to my husband, but weirdly freeing too, that I might have something all my own to look forward to. I really did want to watch Kadi play in Krakow. And it would be fun to spend a night or two in a hotel suite, away from the worry and the cold desperate hunger of my everyday life.
I wrote Hela and asked her thoughts, and also whether she would be willing to keep my secret from Kaz the next time she saw him.
Yes! Under one condition, Hela wrote back. I want to go to Krakow with you.
HOW WONDERFUL IT WAS TO BE WITH MY SISTER-TWIN AGAIN, just the two of us! We’d bought very inexpensive fourth-class tickets for the train, but it was only a six-hour ride, and we did not mind the floor of the railcar so much, especially as we sat shoulder to shoulder, our arms around each other. I leaned my head against her shoulder and inhaled the scent of her—still the same as when we were girls, lemons and corn poppies.
“You are going to love hearing Kadi,” I told her. “Her piano is so very beautiful.”
“Marya?” Hela said my name softly, a question.
“What is it?” I asked her.
“I need to tell you something, and I want you to know . . . I never want to upset you.”
“What’s wrong?” I was alarmed. “Is it Papa? Is he sick?”
She shook her head, inhaled, and then exhaled her confession in one fast breath: “Bronia invited me to come live with them in Paris, to help her out with little Lou and to enroll in some courses at the Sorbonne.”
“Oh,” I said. I’d never considered that Hela might want to go to Paris. We were almost the same age, but I’d always been the smarter one, ahead in all our studies. Hela had seemed content teaching at the girls’ gymnasium in Warsaw. I hadn’t expected her to ever desire more than that, and I felt ashamed that I had underestimated her ambitions.
But it all made sense, why Papa had ignored my request to use the Sorbonne money for Kaz, writing only about other things in his letters. Now, I understood. Papa was going to help Hela go to France, use the money to pay her tuition at the Sorbonne instead.
“Why would I be upset?” I finally said, swallowing hard. “I am surprised, yes. But . . . this sounds like a wonderful opportunity for you.”
Hela smiled and exhaled. “Yes, I will be very excited to live in France for a little while. To expand my mind.”
I didn’t ask her what she planned to study, the bitter taste so thick on my tongue that it was hard to speak, much less to breathe. The air on the train suddenly felt stale, suffocating as I tried to imagine both my sisters so far away.
I felt like I was slipping again, my footing uncertain. Bronia and I were the ones who were supposed to get the university education. Hela was the one content with Poland. Bronia and I married Kazimierzs; Hela was still