Babayaga

dead. Does it matter? She’s dead to me.”
    The priest nodded. “Right. So she is alive.”
    Elga shrugged. “Only until I find her.”
    “What did she do now?”
    “Bah, what didn’t she do? First she kills her fat lubovnik , puts his head right through a spike, then she leads the policemen straight to my house. Two of them. Two policemen. Trouble. Much trouble. I tell you this too, I think she did it on purpose.”
    “Why?”
    “Who knows? But she has betrayed me, and that comes with a cost.” She dramatically crossed her throat with her finger.
    “No need for the theatrics, Elga, I know what you mean.” The priest shook his head. “But that does not sound like Zoya.”
    The old woman threw up her hands “She has always been a messy one. And I am tired of cleaning up after her. She makes me act like some ugly maid scrubbing the floor, working on my hands and knees with my fat ass up in the air, ripe for a kick. It is stupid. I am too old for this.”
    “You are the same age you have been for a century,” he said.
    “No, I am much older, you just do not see. It happens too slowly.”
    He chose to ignore this; he knew he did not understand the laws that governed Elga and her sisters. He had tried to once, but that was a long time ago. “Any idea where she is?”
    “No. We left town fast, before Max could sniff her out.” Elga dug her finger into her nostril and then flicked the snot on the ground. “Listen, I’m going to need you to send some of your village idiots with that truck to my place to pack my work up. It’s safe there, should be no trouble, I put a curse on the door.”
    “No trouble? Really, Elga? I hear the word ‘curse,’ and I tend to think there might be trouble.”
    Elga was quiet. The priest scratched his head. “The farmer down the way has two boys who can help move your stuff. He has a better truck than mine. Whose car did you come in?”
    “I don’t know.” She set the keys on the table. “You can have it if you want. I wouldn’t drive it, though.”
    The priest looked at her suspiciously, then he went out the door. A minute later he came back inside. “It’s a police car, Elga. You want to tell me where the policemen are who came with that car?”
    “You got me.” She shrugged.
    The priest went over to the icebox and slid a bottle of vodka out of its small freezer compartment. He poured himself a shot and then splashed another shot into the empty soup bowl. The rat went at it. The priest sat back down. “Why don’t you tell me what you want, Elga?”
    “Maybe put the car in the shed. Then get those farm boys to clear out my place. I can store things here for the time being. And I need your help getting a new girl.”
    “A new girl? Why?”
    “I told you, Zoya’s dead.”
    The priest closed his eyes, letting the comment pass. “Where will we find this new girl?”
    “That hospital in town. Get me a job there tomorrow.”
    “What if they’re not hiring?”
    Elga nodded. “One of their workers is sick, they’re going to need help to cover for her. I can be that help.”
    “You’re confusing me, Elga. The worker is sick? How do you know this? Are you talking about an event that has happened or will happen?”
    Elga looked at him like he was an idiot. He knew time and tense did not concern her, they would be chopped and thrown in the stew with all the rest.
    Max the rat was done with the vodka. He tottered around drunk for a few steps before slipping off the edge of the table. The priest deftly caught him in the palm of his hand before the rat hit the floor and placed him back on the table. “Seriously, Elga, you can’t barge in here with so much nonsense. When will it stop?”
    She dismissively shook off the priest’s question. “There is no stop.”
    XIX

    Vidot the flea arrived at his doorstep, near dead with exhaustion and hunger. He had briefly caught a ride on the back on a stray cat that had carried him less than a dozen blocks before it turned its tongue against him. He had barely escaped unharmed and had hopped the rest of the way, dodging deep oily puddles and fat automobile wheels. But now, finally, he was home. He crawled under the main entrance door to the building and through the large lobby before beginning the laborious job of jumping, one by one, up the three flights of stairs to his apartment. Finally reaching the top, he used the last of his remaining strength to crawl under his door and into his hallway. He was home. He knew no