19=S, 1=A, 2=B, 3=C, 11=K—no that doesn’t make sense.
I read his words once more.
…between two and three in the afternoon—so, fourteen and fifteen, perhaps.
19=S, 1=A, 14=N, 15=O, 11=K
Sanok
And thenthe second of January at seven…2.1.7 is 2=B, 1=A, 7=G
Bag
Sanok Bag…I continue reading the letter, slowly, making sure I don’t miss a word.
The next time I’ll be able to go, will be on the twenty-third of May at noon, and I’ll have twelve roses.
The next word is 23.5.12.12. I clench my eyes, picturing the numbers next to the letters, using my fingers to steady my counting. 23=W, 5=E, 12=L, 12=L
Well
Sanok Bag Well
Just one more word. This isn’t an address. Maybe a code name to retrieve mail at the factory…
Just remember that I must return by 9:14 the next morning to ensure I’m back here by 11?—
9.14.11 is 9=I, 14=N, 11=K
Ink
I love you with all my heart, forever and all of time.
S
My fingernails are tearing into the flesh of my chest as I place the words together:
Sanok Bag Well Ink.
It doesn’t make sense, which must be the point.
It’s clear he’s worried to say too much or too little, but I know he’s alive. It’s everything. Everything. It’s air to my lungs. A pulse anchoring my soul.
I fall back against the nearest building, trying to breathe in the thick damp air.
“I hungry. I go home,” Hilde says, twisting away from the back of the stroller’s seat with one hand, scratching at her neck with her other, leaving red marks. I lean over her and take her hand in mine to pull it away from her neck. She’s clammy.
“Are you alright, sweetheart?”
“Hungry,” she says again.
I place the back of my hand on her head, feeling a touch of warmth above normal and begin to count her breaths while staring at my watch. A steady rhythm, and no wheezing. Must be the summer heat.
“We’ll go home now.”
She resettles herself in the seat and leans back. I push the stroller away from the shallow curb and the wheel catches on a jagged stone, jerking us both forward. Hilde lets out a shrill cry and heat fires through my veins as I imagine every person within these tall surrounding buildings looking out the windows at us.
A window latch pops, echoes between the walls and I lift the back of the stroller and push it away from the curb, quickly turning the next corner.
