Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: SLIP OF THE TONGUE (01/26/17)
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TITLE: A Dangerous Secret | Previous Challenge Entry
By Gary Ritter
01/30/17 -
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There was no one. Perhaps he’d been overly wary, but it was unlikely. After the defeat of the Nazis, despite assurances by Lenin to the rest of the Allied Powers that the Soviet boot wouldn’t come down upon Lithuania and other Eastern European nations, it did. The burgeoning hopes of the people that their oppression was over died as communism took root. Despair under Hitler’s regime became paranoid hopelessness. Just as resistance fighters took on their German occupiers, men and women went underground against communist rule. But forty years in the Soviet bloc had worn them out. Matas had experienced it all since childhood.
He checked once more behind him and sprinted from the doorway. Two more blocks at a dead run brought him to his apartment building. Out of the rain, he looked back again. His heart sank. A familiar figure turned a corner.
The years had taken their toll on Matas. He remembered when he could run for miles and barely break a sweat. Long queues waiting for food that never materialized in the stores, a poor diet, backbreaking work, and nighttime raids to uselessly retaliate, had weakened him. He took several deep breaths before he ascended the stairs.
Inside, his wife, Ruta, took him in her arms. “I was worried about you.”
The bleak concrete walls seemed to press in on him. Who knew when their masters might plant a microphone? He whispered into her ear, “Are the children here?”
She nodded, and he spoke the same way, “I have so much to tell you, but cannot.”
“I hate that we must keep so much from them.”
“The threat is too great. They could let slip in school something we say, and we’d be lost.”
Thirteen-year-old Audra walked into the living room. “Daddy, I must tell you what we did in school today.” Matas kissed her. “What was that, darling?”
“We learned that manufacturing production is up, and that we will meet our quotas this year.”
Matas closed his eyes, wishing they had a schooling alternative. Everything was political; everything was about the state. He hated it, but shook off his melancholy and smiled. “That’s great. Where’s your brother? Did Jurgis have a good day, too?”
He and Ruta soon gathered the family around the dinner table. Each of them shared what they’d done and who they’d talked to at school and work. When the children inevitably spoke of wonders of the collective or extolled a politician their teachers had praised, the parents exchanged cautious, pained glances.
After twenty minutes, Matas made a decision. The fear of someone listening, the dread his secret meetings would be discovered, the threat of loyal teachers brainwashing their children, the necessary banality of family life, were more than he could bear. He’d grown desperately tired of it. He must counter the propaganda, regardless of the consequences. “Audra, do you remember how we talked about Jesus when you were younger?”
Ruta’s mouth opened. Matas held up a finger to stop what she might say. “Audra?”
“Yes, Daddy, but it’s been a long time.”
“How about you, Jurgis? Can you recall our discussions about Jesus?”
The boy, two years younger than his sister, frowned. “I think so.”
“Your mother and I want to make sure you know who Jesus is. Your teachers may not agree, but He’s more important than all the things they teach you. If anything ever happens to either of us,” he gestured at Ruta, “you must seek out Jesus and know that He will bring you truth and peace.”
Audra’s browed wrinkled. “The government doesn’t like Jesus, does it, Daddy?”
“No, it’s dangerous for us to even talk about Him, but I felt we needed to take the chance. There’s more to life than what they tell you at school.” Matas arose and removed his Bible from its secret place. “Let’s take a couple minutes to read together.” He opened the book and began, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart—“
Fists pounded on the door. In a frantic move, Matas slid the Bible under the sofa.
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