Rabbit, Soldier, Angel, Thief - by Katrina Nannestad

‘Poor boy.’ She shakes her head and tucks the end of my bandages back inside my pyjama shirt. ‘It was bad enough when we found you wandering in the street last night. But now this! Running about with a knife in your hand. A ten- year-old! And on those legs!’ I wasn’t just running, I was crawling, too. But I don’t say it out loud. ‘And for what?’ Nurse Irena’s voice is growing louder. ‘To stab Sergeant Stepanov’s pillow? That pillow was a gift from his lieutenant for saving his life.’ Nurse Sophie peers at me from the other side of the bed. ‘Sergeant Stepanov sacrificed his arm and his left buttock to save his lieutenant. That pillow was as good as a medal for bravery.’ ‘ Better than a medal,’ says Nurse Irena. ‘A medal won’t give him a good night’s sleep. But that pillow, soft and plump, is made for deep sleep and peaceful dreams. It’s fit for Stalin himself !’ Sergeant Stepanov now hobbles to the end of my bed. ‘That pillow is hardly fit for anyone now. There are feathers flying out all over. They’re floating up around the bed, drifting down one by one, tickling my nose and chest and armpits so that I want to giggle like a little child!’ His forehead is as wrinkled as his pyjamas. ‘What were you thinking, boy?’ I blink three times, then stare. Nurse Irena and Nurse Sophie smile, hovering over my face. Sergeant Stepanov opens his mouth and breathes

3