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I damn sure wanted to turn around, but Pavel moved forward, so I did too. His presence—unwavering and familiar—was the only constant in this terrifying moment.
It struck me then, how sometimes, the mere act of someone walking hand-in-hand with you into the darkness could lend an unexpected strength. A shared courage that might not fully get rid of the terror but could make it more. . .bearable.
It was in that horrifying reality that I realized I truly needed Pavel’s presence with me the entire time. Like Maxwell was afraid to walk down the steps to the witch’s basement, I was terrified to be in the hallway by myself.
Did my brain know this. . .and send him along with me because of it?
A part of me wanted to flee, to turn back and escape this nightmare.
Stop it. Pavel is with you. All will be fine.
Amidst the swirling winds and the ominous creaks of this forsaken hallway, I found myself reaching out to Pavel, almost without thought. “Give me your hand.”
Pavel turned to me. “Why?”
“I am. . .” My tongue felt heavy and thick. “I am scared.”
Those words sliced through my pride with surprising ease. “I want you to hold my hand.”
A curious smirk spread across Pavel’s face. “A lion’s heart is fierce and bold, yet he too can shiver in the shadows of fear.”
I frowned. “Just give me your damned hand.”
“Yet, it is in the acceptance and understanding of his vulnerabilities that the lion finds a deeper, more resilient strength.”
Then, slowly, Pavel extended his hand towards mine. The contact, simple yet profound, was like a lifeline thrown across the chasm of our fears.
His grip was firm.
Grounding.
A silent pledge to share all burdens.
Thank God.
With Pavel’s hand in mine, the darkness seemed less oppressive.
I thought of Maxwell, and hoped that I had been this very comfort to him as we went down those stairs to the witch’s basement.
Wake up, Maxwell. Please. . .I am understanding you better now.
With Pavel’s hand in mine, I moved forward. “Cousin. . .”
“Yes, Kazimir.”
“I should not have killed you.”
Pavel chuckled. “If you had not, then who would be holding your hand right now?”
Pain hit my heart.
“If I was not here, you would be fleeing away from the hallway, probably pissing your pants.” Pavel’s voice cracked at the end. He cleared his throat. “No. Better I be here. Better my death. . .serve a purpose to a happier life for my son.”
“My mouse loves him.”
“And will love him more than you and I could even fathom.” Pavel’s bottom lip shivered. “I see it. He is better because of her.”
“And we are better because of them.”
