"Palun." Yuri whispered, holding out a spoonfull of wurst to the cat. "Please, this is just for you."

The cat, a mangy old creature that had inhabited this crevice in the refuge for as long as Yuri could remember, stared at the boy suspiciously. Yuri held very still and repeated "Palun."

Never taking its eyes off of Yuri, the cat crept forward, sniffed at the wurst as if it expected it to be poisoned, then snatched it off the spoon and retreated to the safety of the crevice.

The cat bit into the wurst several times before finally swallowing it. It never took its eyes off of Yuri.

"Head Istu" Yuri told the cat, Bon Appetite. Yuri dug out another spoonful of wurst and held it out to the cat. Did the cat care that Yuri was half-Russian? Maybe. In two years, the cat had never let Yuri touch it. It always grabbed the food from the spoon and pulled back. If Yuri raised his hand to reach out towards the cat, it would arch its back and hiss. So Yuri never tried any more.

"It's OK, cat. You're just like me. People are mean to us because we're small and ugly. The other boys hit me too. Look." Yuri pulled back the hood of his parka so the cat could see the small brown bruises where Karl and had hit him that morning on the way to school.

"I know what it's like for you. So don't worry. I'm your friend. We can be friends from two meters away." Yuri dug out some more wurst.

The little hidden alcove in the courtyard off of Ruutli tee (Knight's Street) had been Yuri's refuge after school for two years now. His mother gave piano lessons in their tiny apartment on the other side of town and Yuri wasn't allowed to come home until the last student was done. Yuri's father wanted him to go to the ice hocky practice at the Linna Hall, but Yuri hated it.

"What kind of son are you?" His father would yell at him. "I played for the St. Petersburg city champions and you can't even handle a stick! We are Russians Yuri! We are proud. We are strong. We are not afraid of anything! Do you hear me, Yuri? We lost twenty million men fighting the fascists, but we beat them."

His father would start pounding the table whenever he talked about the war. "All four of my grandparents died in the siege! They gave their lives for mother Russia! They died so you could be free!" If there was any vodka, his father would down a swig and start talking about the 900 day siege. He could talk for hours about the bravery of the St. Petersburg citizens in resisting the fasists (never "Germans", aways "fascists").

Then his father would talk about how hard his childhood had been, about never having enough to eat, about the cold, and of course about the hocky team.

"If I had gotten training when I was your age, I could have made the Red Army team. I was that good! I could have been a star!" His father would get quiet then thinking about hockey. Sometimes he would start talking about one game of another. And the fights he got into. He liked talking about the fights. "I wasn't as big as some of those guys, but I was tough!"

At last his father would wear down and reminisce about coming to Estonia. "I came to play my part and make the Soviet Union a better, stronger country. I came so that my children could have a better life than I did."

"Yes, father," Yuri would always say. "You have given me a good life."

Then his father would hug him and beat his shoulders. "You have the best opportunity I could give you, Yuri! You can be anything you want to. You just have to be strong. Be determined! Make me proud, Yuri!"

By this time the vodka would be getting to his father, and his eyes would get blurry. "Be brave, Yuri. Be brave."

And then the lecture would be over. His father would be tired of talking and just sit and think. He wouldn't even notice when Yuri would leave to take the bus back to his mother's apartment in the old city.

"That's all cat, Se on koik." As usual, the cat just stared at him. Yuri took the spoon, leaned over a large block jutting out from the side of the wall, and slipped it into a tiny crack. The spoon made a sharp little metallic ringing sound as it bounced on the stone blocks in the interior of the wall.

Each time it was different. Sometimes the spoon sould only bounce off one stone, then land with a dull "clink" on the pile of spoons already there. This time it seemed like it hit every single stone all the way down. "Ping, ping, clank! Dingle, dingle, dingle, thunk!" Yuri would close his eyes and try to imagine the spoon's journey. He could see it bounce off one side of the little tunnel, then the other, all the way down.

8,6 meters. This is how deep Yuri had decided that the tunnel must be. And down at the bottom, where no one had been for 1000 years, there was now a pile of tea spoons.

"It's time for me to go now, Cat." The cat just stared. Yuri climbed a meter up the side of the opposite wall and peeked out through a crack. There was no one in the courtyard as usual, just old tires, broken planks, and the rusty remains of a Lada. Today the only footpprints in the snow were Yuri's. They went from the front archway on Ruutli tee to the back of the alleyway, around the car, then back out to the street. It looked as if he had walked in, looked around, and left.

Yuri squeezed through the gap between the wall and the remains of the shed next to it, underneath a partially caved-in red tile roof. It would have been easier to climb all the way over the top of the wall, but that would have left footprints. This way, no one could tell he'd been there. He edged his way along the shed where his footprints wouldn't show. Then he stretched out and placed his foot right into a footprint of the trail leading from the car. He gave the wall a shove and landed his other foot in another footprint. He walked to the front of the archway and peeked out through a crack in the gate. He waited a moment while someone walked by, then slipped under the broken side of the gate and strode out onto Ruutli as if he'd been walking there the whole time.

Every time he made it safely into or out of his refuge, he felt a spark of pride for his cleverness.

A few times Yuri had heard other people come into his courtyard. Sitting quietly in his refuge, he could hear them as they pushed their way through the hole in the gate. Bigger people had to push harder. Sometimes they'd break off parts of the gate trying to squeeze in. Sometimes they'd scrape themselves and swear.

Once they were inside they'd nose around the piles of trash. They might dig around a little bit, but never for long. There was never anything interesting enough to stay for. The Lada was so old and rusted that it was impossible to even open the doors. If you tried to climb in through the empty window holes, you'd probably cut yourself and even if you didn't. The shreds of the seat cusions were so smelly and covered with mold and cat shit that not even the occasional drunk who found his way in would stay.

Yuri would just sit quietly with the cat and wait until they left. No one ever explored the wall that hid his refuge. They might lean against it, they might even climb up half-way where there was a block that jutted out and one could sit there. But no one ever climbed to the top where they would be able to see that there was an open space beneath.

****************

It was always a pleasure for Yuri to sit in the cafes. No, more than a pleasure, it was an exciting adventure, almost seductive. Because of the piano lessons, his mother would give him a few kroon so he could get something nad have somewhere to sit until she was done.

so he'd come to the cafes ("kohvik") and get a hot chocolate or a bun before heading off to the refuge. A kohvik was a wonderful, mystical place. There were big glass cases filled with the most amazing treats. The counter on the top of the cases were covered with baskets piled high with sweet buns and rolls.

There were croissants, plain or powdered, with apple, berry or cheese filling; sausage rolls of several sorts; ham rolls; cheese rolls; ham and cheese rolls; chocolate turnovers. And that was only the top of the case.

Inside. Oh! Inside! There were jam muffins, Alexander cakes with bright pink icing, brown rum balls the size of a golf ball, with cherries on top and chocolate flakes, rum rolls covered with in dark chocolate and sprinkled with coconut.

Next came the marzipan cakes -- little pie crusts filled -- no piled high -- with white marizan, bigger than his fist and covered with nuts, then smaller marzipan rolls, pure white with no coverings. The "Pahkli" truffels -- cookies covered half with brown molasses, half in dark chocolate, then carrot cakes, black berry cakes topped with dark red gelatin, and finally, dark chocolate Sacher tort with "Sacher" written in brown icing.

The second shelf held more gelatin cakes. There were two kinds of cream-filled eclairs, a big, fat cream-filled rum roll, apple cakes, cream-filled pastery, horns, then angel food cakes, and little rice cakes.

The bottom shelves held salads and sandwiches and baguettes, then big cakes to take home. Yuri didn't spend much time admiring those lower levels of the display, but he could spend hours just staring at the top, trying to imagine how each one would taste.

"Someday I'll try every one of those" he told himself. "Someday."

****************

His mother woke him up early Sunday morning. "We have to get your father," she told him. "Get dressed." She was tense and spoke quietly.

His mother and father got together very rarely these days and then it was usually to argue. Yuri dressed and hurried downstairs where his mother was waiting. She seemed even more tense and fidgited with the keys as she locked the outside door.

She didn't say anything, but walked quickly with a determined pace as Yuri hurried behind her. They walked past the city wall where the vendors were still setting up their wares for the day, then along Muurivahe street towards Vabaduse Valjak ("Freedom Square!" just the name excited Yuri). They crossed it, and stopped in front of the police station. She waited for Yuri, took his hand and pushed open the big double doors. "Your father was arrested last night for beating up two boys."

They walked in.

"Sit here," his mother ordered him as she went up to the counter. She spoke quietly with the policeman behind the counter, opened her purse and took out some papers. The officer talked to her for a while, then gave her some papers to sign.

He called to someone in a back room, then turned to work on some other things. Yuri's mother just stood there.

After 15 minutes, another officer emerged from the back room, talking to his father. They opened a little gate and approached his mother. They spoke for a moment, then she threw her arms around him. They stood like that for several minutes, whispering too quietly for Yuri to hear.

Then the officer said a few things more loudly to his father. Yuri could only make out a little of it, but it was clear the officer wasn't really very angry at him.

"You can't do that." Yuri father said something back to the officer.

"I know, but you still can't do that. You're not a policeman. Don't..." His father interrupted him.

The officer shook his head. They exchanged a few more words, then his father nodded. He reached out and shook the policeman's hand. Then he turned saw Yuri and yelled "Come here boy!" with a big smile on his face.

Yuri jumped up and ran into his father's outstretched arms. His father picked him up, shook him back and forth then put him back down.

"Your dad's been bad, Yuri. I got angry and..." he paused, thought. "I'll show you." He took Yuri by the hand, then lifted his elbow for his mother. She slipped her arm into his and they walked out, the three of them together.

They walked back across Vabaduse Valjak and along Harju street. His father turned, and turned towards the Nigulisti church. They stopped at the intersection. His mother and father talked a few minutes, then they kissed, smiled at each other and his mother turned to walk home.

"Come on boy. It's time to see what your father did." His father headed up the hill at a lively pace, Yuri in tow.

"When I first came here, this place was a mess," he pointed at the great church. "It was dirty, and grey, and falling apart. That was one of the first projects I worked on."

They turned left on Ruutli, past the parking lot and stopped, right in front of the refuge.

"This used to be owned by an old guy who was sort of crazy." His father pushed back the broken bottom to the gate and crawled inside. "My buddy, Sergi, worked for him and had the keys to this place."

Yuri crawled in after his father.

"The old guy was extermely superstitious. He had a bunch of pagen icons from I don't know when, hundreds of years ago. He hired Sergi because he had two different colored eyes. This was supposed to be lucky.

His father scanned the heaps of trash. "After he died, people used this place like a gargage heap. "Discusting. And this," he patted the Lada, "once actually ran. I never saw it but Sergi did. When the old man got sick, he parked it here and just left it. Kids would hop down from the wall there," he pointed at the back wall that lead up towards Tompea, "and get drunk here. But they never did it more than once. Something would always happen to them."

"They'd trip on a plank and break an arm, they'd hit the head on the overhand," he patted the overhang that led to the refuge, "Or they'd cut themselves on the car. There were so many time that Sergi and I came here to do something for the old man and we'd find a pool of dried blood."

His father walked around the little courtyard, looking at everything as if it were familar. "So people got the idea that old guy had put a curse on this place. And they stayed away."

Hes father paused by the refuge wall, then waved his hand dramatically. "But it wasn't the old man who put the curse on this place."

"Right here," he patted the wall, "is the real secret of this place. Come on." He reached up and found a place for his fingers, then positioned his right foot on the seat rock, and started to climb. He reached the top, pulled himself up and sat there, looking around.

"Come on, Yuri." Yuri followed his father up, intentionally ignoring his usual short cut. He struggled with a few hand-holds, but made it up.

His father didn't try to help him. He just sat on top and watched "You may not be a great hockey player, but you can climb."

"Now look! You can see up to Tompea, you can see over the wall there to the next courtyard. You can see in the windows, and..." he pointed down the other side of the wall, "you can see the hidden spot." He hopped down.

"Jump, I'll catch you." Yuri jumped.

"You can't tell this place is here form the other side. It's like the one truly sceret spot in the whole city. Sergi and I would hang out down here when we didn't want to be bothered. It's the perfect hide out. And..." He paused.

He peered into the little chink. "Oh my God! There's a cat here. When we used to hide here there was a cat just like this one." He pulled back a bit, looking down the chink and spoke softly "Here cat. Tere-Tere. How are you?"

He motioned for Yuri to be quiet, waving his hand up and down. "Now with a strange cats you have to be very gentle. Speak quietly, slowly, look them in the eye." He was looking at the cat as he spoke.

"This is an Estonian cat, so you have to speak Estonian to him. "Kuidas sila, cat" -- How are you? The cat just stared.

"Never try to pet a strange cat unless he says it's OK. Watch." He stretched out his arm slowly towards the cat, stopping with his hand half a meter away. "It's just me cat. I knew your mother. We're just here to say hello."

The cat pulled back a bit. After a very long minute, the cat crept forward just far enough to sniff the hand resting motionless on the ledge. He sniffed twice, then pulled back, tense, but clearly more relaxed than before. His eyes never left Yuri's father.

"Now you." His father withdrew his hand and nodded for Yuri to try. Yuri squeezed in front of his father and cautiously extended his hand. "Tere, cat. How are you today?" The cat crept forward to sniff Yuri's hand, then backed slowly away.

"Oh!" Yuri's father backed away and look at him. "He likes you! That is really good for a wild cat. You might have a gift for animals." He smiled approvingly.

"Let's go now." Yuri's father climbed back up the wall. "For as long as I know of, there's been a cat here. And it's always been a mangy black one, just like that one."

He hopped down the other side and waited for Yuri. "I knew a cat there. Sergi knew one before me, and the old man told us that there had been one for as long as he could remember. And not just any cat. It's always been old, ragged, black, and..." he paused for effect, "...enchanted!"

Yuri looked at his father inquisitively.

"Uh, huh. It's a magic cat. That's what the old man told us. It used to belong to a witch who lived here hundreds of years ago. And ever since the witch died, or was put under an evil spell or whatever happened to her, the cat has protected this place. That's why all those drunk boys broke their legs. They were mean to the cat."

His father waved a smiling finger at him. "So be nice to that cat!"

"Now, what we came here for." His father started climbing up the retaining wall toward Tompea. It was only a bit taller than his father, who made it up in two pulls and a jump. Yuri scrambled up after him.

"You made it easier than I did." He laughed

"Last night," he crossed the small lawn to the steps leading up to the next level. "I was up here." He pointed to the arch where the Luhike Pikk emerged out on the stretch of ground in front of the old town wall. "I was a little bit drunk. Only a bit. And I heard some noise right here." He continued along the second level to where a bronze shield with the insignia of Tallinn adorned the retaining wall.

"And I saw two boys doing this." He pointed at the wall next to the shield. The grey rock was dispoiled with bright orange spray paint.

"The Singing Revolution can go F..."

"You know what I think about the break-up of the Soviet Union. I was out there with the others, protesting, writing letters, trying to convince people to stay together. I think this was the worst thing that ever happened. We had a chance to make the world a better place," his eyes darkened as he reflected. "a chance, and they threw it away."

"They said they wanted freedom, independence. It's bull, Yuri. It's just an excuse for small-time dictators to gain power. Look at the wars in Georgia, Chechnya, Azerbiajan, Yugoslavia. There are a million 'free' people now lying in shallow graves thanks to that."

He inhaled deeply, then continued. "But it's over. It's done. This!" He swept the graffitti with his arm. "This is cheap, cowardly, nasty, and is exactly what we fought to prevent. And to have Russian boys doing this, this shit! That's discusting!"

"So I jumped down the wall there," Yuri looked at the wall that went from where they were up to the top level. It was eight or nine meters, a very long jump. "and I beat the crap out of them."

His father was getting worked up as talked about it. He grimiced and flexed his arms, making jabs in the air.

I didn't break any bones, but you can be sure the'll remember this for the rest of their lives. They will never dishonor Mother Russia by pulling shit like that again!"

He stood staring at the defaced wall, breathing heavily. He turned to Yuri. "If you don't like someone because he's an asshole, and you want to beat him up, fine. Be a man about it. Tell him to his face and then fight. But this. This is crap!"

He exhaled one more time and recovered himself. Quite calmly he concluded "And that's why your father got arrested."

****************

His school, Gustav Adolph, had been founded by the Swedish king 300 years before and was considered one of the best schools in the country. There were not many Russians there, so Yuri felt himself particularly isolated. He really had no friends.

Getting to school safely was an art. If he arrived too early, there was the danger that Karl would find his coat in the cloakroom and do something to it. Yuri had found any number of unpleasant items in his coat pockets.

Arriving too late would get him into trouble with his teachers. There was also the danger of meeting Karl or several other students on the way to school. As long as there were grownups around, he was safe. But the last few hundred meters were the most dangerous. Each day Yuri carefully chose a different route, hoping to avoid trouble.

This time Yuri chose the most direct route, down Puhavaimu past the old church by the same name with the big clock on the wall. He could estimate his time more easily this way, lingering at the corner if he was too early. Then he could choose, left up Pikk past the Russian Embassy and his favorite cafe, or right down Pikk to a cross street and a long, open space with few grownups.

Yuri looked behind, then peered down Pikk, left and right, looking for the tall, pointed cap that Karl always worn. It looked safe, just a bunch of other students who didn't bother him. He hurried down the street. He was half-way there before he noticed Heli and Imre watching him.

"Tere, Yuuuri" Heli said as she and Imre hustled him around the corner into an empty courtyard. "It's so cold for us," she purred. "We're not used to the really cold winter like in Moscow. My hands are frozen already." The two girls were the same age as Yuri, but almost twice as big.

"We need a hot Russian butt to keep us warm," she continued as shoved her hands down the back of his pants. "Oh! You're so hot! Yuri, you're burning my hands! Oh! Oh! I'm burning up!" Yuri stood glued to the spot, overcome with the excitement of her hands on his butt.

"I'll save you," Imre exclaimed, and she dumped a pile of snow down his pants.

The two girls roared with laughter. "Try to keep cool, Yuri!" They ran out of the courtyard, laughing as they went.

Yuri was burning all over. He clawed as much snow as he could out of his pants, then jumped up and down, trying to shake the rest out the bottoms. He couldn't decide if he hated her because she was mean, or if he loved her because she touched his butt. It was so exciting to have her grab him there.

After another shake, he tucked in his shirt again and continued the rest of the way to school. He had gotten enough out that it wouldn't look liked he had wet his pants.

During classes, which he was never very interested in, he had the time to think about how he would escape from school. If he was lucky, he would get out a little bit after Karl and his friends, and he would be able to watch them and choose a different direction. If he wasn't lucky, he'd have to guess and take his chances.

In either case, Yuri would then have to figure out how to get to his refuge in secret. And of course there was always the challenge of finding a spoon.

"The Spoon Hunt" he called it. He was like a lonely hunter in a cold, cruel world. He had to select a kohvik, get his drink, and then corner a table that someone was leaving. And it had to be someone who had been drinking coffee -- someone who had had a spoon. Then, without anyone noticing, he had to get the spoon off the table and safely into one of his hiding places -- his sock, the spine of his book, the hollowed-out rim of his cap.

There were a dozen places Yuri could hide a spoon. Sometimes he lay awake at night dreaming up ways of capturing spoons and secreting them away. In two years he'd never been caught.

****************

"Yurichka, durichka" -- Yuri the fool.

It was Friday afternoon. Yuri had just gotten out of school and found Toivo and Johan, standing 20 meters up Suur Klostri, waiting for him, snowballs in hand.

Yuri turned and ran towards the town wall next to the school. The snowballs hit him harmlessly in the back. They were chasing him but he continued through the pedestrian arch at full speed. Wack! A big, hard ball of ice and snow hit him in the ear.

Karl had been waiting for him behind the arch. Karl grabbed another snowball and started after him.

Yuri dashed across the street, up onto the sidewalk, hit a patch of ice and slipped, landing face-first on the crusty snow.

Somewhere behind him there was the sound of a car horn and some people yelling. Yuri lay dazed, struggled to get up, then felt a hand lift him by the collar of his coat.

Yuri's ear was ringing from the impact of the snowball, his face felt bruised and stung, his hands hurt. A man was yelling at him, but Yuri couldn't hear him. Several passerbys had stopped to watch.

"Are you stupid?" The man was yelling "Do you want to die? If you had slipped in the street that car would have crushed you. Boom!" The man released Yuri and clapped his hands together. "Boom! and you're dead! Do you understand? Dead. You were that close," the man held his thumb and index fingers together. "That close."

Yuri nodded his head in short, jerky movements. He kept nodding out of fear, pain, confusion. "Snowballs don't hurt. Cars hurt." The man softened his tone slightly. "You're fine. Now just don't be such an idiot next time" The man looked him over, brushed off his face and ear. "You're OK. They just hit you with a snowball." The man left. The onlookers turned and continued on their way.

Across the street Karl, Johan, and Toivo were laughing. "Boom!" Karl clapped his hands "Boom!"

Yuri made his way unsteadily across the sidewalk and started up the steps towards Tompea. This side of the hill was quite steep, and the only way up was a long set of stairs that were carved into the hillside. In the summertime, there would be lots of people here, enjoying the walk and the view. In the middle of a cold winter day, there was no one. Yuri hung on to the guard rail as he climbed, partially because the steps were icy, partially because he was still dizzy and shaking.

At the first landing, about 50 meters up, Yuri stopped. He clung to the railing, then sat down. He was shaking hard. Yuri curled up into a ball and continued to shake. Boom! He'd be dead. Boom! Karl would never throw a snowball at him again. Boom! Nothing would hurt. He wouldn't be afraid. Just one Boom!

No one passed Yuri as he lay on the steps. It was too icy and too cold to go sight-seeing.

Yuri lifted his head and looked out across the park below. Two people were ice skating on the pond. A dozen or so were walking along the Suur Klostri where it emerged from the town wall. Where he had almost gotten killed. The rest of the park was empty. It was just a wide, rolling plain covered with lovely, white, pure white snow. It was so beautiful. Yuri loved this park -- when it wasn't so cold.

A gust of wind blew across the open face of Tompea. Yuri realized that he was cold, very cold. His face stung. He touched it and couldn't even feel his hand touch it.

Yuri uncurled himself stiffly and made his way up to the top of the stairway, another 100 meters up. The wind was stronger here and he staggered across the outlook, towards the streets of Tompea. There was a beautiful view of the old town and the port from here, but it was far too cold to stop and look.

Yuri was also far too cold to go straight to his refuge. He had planned to walk all the way along the lower steps to the trail that ran all the way around the bottom of Tompea, then to Falgi street that led up past the parlement building, past the great Russian church, then through the town wall and down to his refuge from above. It was a beautiful walk, and he loved planning out his directions. But now he was too cold. He walked the 200 meters across the middle of the hill to where Pikk lead back down to the center of town.

A quarter of the way down Pikk, there was an art and handicraft shop for tourists. And the shop had a Kohvik inside.

"My, you look cold!" the pretty young woman behind the counter smiled at him. "Was my favorite customer in a snowball fight?"

Yuri nodded, shivering.

She came out from behind the counter and felt his face. "You're frozen! Don't you know better than to come in when it's cold? It's -20 today!"

Yuri stood there shaking and smiled, or tried to smile, at her.

"Sit over here by the radiator." She directed him to an empty table by the back wall, next to which stood an old steam radiator.

"Hat"

Yuri made a half-hearted attempt at pulling hat off with his stiff, gloved fingers. She took it off for him and felt his ears.

"Oh, my God! You are just an ice cube!" She held her hands against his ears to warm them "You silly boy!"

She helped him take off his gloves and laid them with his hat on the chair next to him. "Hold your hands near the heater, right here." She put his hands near the radiator. "Don't put them any closer. You're too cold and you'll burn up your hands if you do." Yuri nodded, still shaking, but feeling better already.

"Now, some hot cocao for our little ice cube?" She walked back to the counter.

"Ah... I..." She looked at him, raising her eyebrows. "I only have three crowns." Cocoa was five.

She looked at him slightly exasperated, then laughed. "You're lucky. Today we have a special. Hot cocoa only three crowns for frozen children." She turned on the steam nozzle of the cappuchino machine to heat the water.

Yuri sat shivering by the radiator, holding his hands over it and his sock-clad feet against it. When the cocoa came, it was much too hot to drink, but perfect for warming his hands.

Finally Yuri could feel his toes. His ears still stung from the snowball, but at least they were thawed. His fingers tingled painfully -- a little too cold inside and a little too warm outside. But only a little.

He mopped up a few drops of cocoa split on his table and got up to carry his cup and saucer to the plastic bin filled with dirty dishers. The girl was behind the staircase, talking to a customer. Yuri carefully picked up a spoon, glanced at the girl, then slipped it into his pocket. He was putting on his coat when she returned. She felt his ears.

"You feel much warmer now. Be careful when you go out. -20 is cold enough that you can get frostbite. OK?"

Yuri pulled on his hat and gloves, smiled at the girl and walked out, closing the door quietly, but firmly behind him. His mother always hated it when someone let a door slam shut.

Feeling revived, almost happy, Yuri walked back up Jalg Pikk to where a great archway through the town wall led down towards the refuge. He crossed the small flat to the highest retaining wall and looked down to where his father had beaten those two boys. It was a long ways down. He tried to imagine jumping, first to another wall half-way down, then to the narrow flat with the town shield. He'd never survive. He walked along the wall and took the stairs.

As he started down the second set of stairs to the tiny lawn above the refuge, he noticed something was wrong. He stopped, stared, shook his head and stared again. The car was missing!

He hurried down to the lower level. The car was gone. The snow was dirty and trampled flat where it had been drug out. And where all the trash piles had been dug out. The gate was open. There were some tools leaning against the wall where the car had been.

Yuri surveyed the scene. No car. Most of the trash was gone. There was a hole in the side of the shed that formed the overhang to the refuge. Someone had taken a sledge hammer to it. There were scraps of trash littering the yard, some rocks from the wall, some tiles from the roof.

Two man in orange overalls came through the arch way with a wheel barrow. One of them was heavy-set, with a beard and a rough face and several large scars that Yuri could see clearly. The other was skinny. He had a narrow face and was clean shaven. He was pushing the wheel barrow while the large man talked and gestured, pointing at the different things in the courtyard. They ignored Yuri.

The skinny one parked the wheel barrow by the far wall, then the two of them picked up sledge hammers and approached the refuge wall. The old mortar gave way easily and the wall fell quickly under the assault.

Yuri ran back up the stairs, across the second level, past the shield of Tallinn and down the stairway leading out through a neighboring courtyard and onto Ruutli.

As Yuri turned down Ruutli, he could see a large trash container parked on the sidewalk next to the gate, and pieces of junk, scraps of wood and bits of rocks and mortar making a trail from the gate to the container. A paneled work truck was parked next to it with the faded words "Remont Sergi" (Sergi's Renovation) painted on the side in Russian.

The gate itself hung open. Yuri had never seen it open. One side of the gate hung at an angle, attached only by the upper hinge. The right side, the side that had the hole Yuri used to sneak through, swung open on both hinges, but was missing a quarter of its face. Instead of opening the lock or cutting the chain, they had simply smashed the gate itself. The chain and lock dangled undamaged from the left side.

Yuri stepped over the bits of trash and peered around the corner.

"Hit it harder!" The big man was yelling at the skinny one. "Can't you do anything? Just smash it!"

The skinny man was trying to hit the edge of the wall outside the refuge where it stood under the remains of the overhand. "Sergi, I can't hit it harder. I've got a roof over me. Let's do that other one first." The skinny fellow was short too. When he pulled off his knitted wool cap to wipe his head, Yuri could see he only had a narrow fringe of hair. He was older than Yuri's father.

"You're hopeless, Vlad. I don't know why I keep you. Move over." Sergi stood at an angle to the wall and swung his sledge hammer horizontally. The wall cracked where he hit it.

"See? All you have to do is put some muscle into it." He swung again and the wall collapsed.

"Just muscle. You should work out more." He stepped across the rubble and tapped the side of the house with his sledge hammer. "Seems solid" He tapped a few more places, then spotted the crevice.

"There's a cat in there!" Yuri blurted out.

The two men turned to regard him. Vladimir had a thin, gaunt face and deep-set fading blue eyes. He looked kind. Sergi was the opposite. His face was full, rounded, with brown eyes that pushed their way our of his face. Ragged brown hair hung out of his cap. He looked irritated.

"Is it your cat?"

Yuri shook his head.

"Well, it'd better get out of there fast." Sergi thumped the outside of the crevice with his hammer. "Clear out cat!"

Nothing.

Sergi looked down the crevice. "Come here cat." He reached in, then jerked his hand back out. "Shit!" Yuri could see the scratch marks on his wrists where gloves had been pulled down.

"You're history, you bastard!" Sergi grabbed his hammer, pulled it back for a mighty blow... and hit the overhang. It rattled and a tile broke off and fell, hitting Sergi's shoulder. "Damn!" Sergi dropped his hammer and grabbed his shoulder.

The hammer dropped to the ground. Sergi turned around. He stepped on the sledge hammer's handle and slipped, tumbling against the wall. More bad language poured out of Sergi's mouth as he held his head, then his shoulder.

Valdimir pickup a pair of heavy gloves from the wheel barrow and handed Yuri a burlap sack. "Hold it open."

He reached in with the gloves, talking quietly as Sergi swore in the background. "Come cat. It's OK...:" Yuri could hear the cat hissing and spitting. "There we go..."

Valdimir dragged the cat out. Its fur was up, its eyes were blazing, and it was struggling to get out of Valdimir's grasp. Valdimiar held the cat down against the lip of the crevice and tried to calm it. "It's OK, it's OK, it's OK. Here we go cat." He glanced back at Sergi who was still massaging his wounds. A trickle of blood ran down his face.

Yuri approached the cat and looked into its burning eyes. "It's me. It's OK. See." He held his hand out for the cat. The cat didn't sniff it, but it seemed to calm down a little.

"Open the sack, kid." Valdimir ordered him. He lifted the cat by the scruff of the neck and placed it carefully into the sack. "There we go. You'll be fine." The cat struggled, but allowed itself to be put into the sack.

Yuri closed it.

"Now get out of here. Don't let the cat come back." He looked at Sergi again. "He won't live very long if he does."

Sergi was still kneeding his shoulder, looking like he would tear the cat to pieces with his teeth if he could.

Yuri left.

He crossed Ruutli and walked up to the church, where he turned and started across the lawn.

Nigulisti church is L-shaped. The bottom of the L runs along Ruutli, while the long side runs down Nigulisti. In the crook of the L, there's a wide sloping lawn. At the bottom of the lawn, on the opposite side from the church is the bombing memorial. Yuri settled himself against the church in the crook, safe from the wind.

"It's OK, cat. You're safe now. You and me, cat. We're safe." He petted the cat through the burlap bag. It seemed calm.

"I've got some food for you. Would you like some wurst?" Yuri cracked open the bag and looked inside. The cat crawled to the opening and stuck its head out. "Some nice wurst, see?" Yuri scooped a bit of wurst with his spoon.

The cat, surprisingly calm, sniffed and ate.

They sat there, in the crook of the church, in the bitter cold. The cat was content to stay in the sack while Yuri fed it and petted it through the burlap. They continued to sit there after the wurst was finished. Yuri petted the cat, spoke to it, and nothing else.

Even in the protection of the church, Yuri began to feel the cold again. He began to shiver.

The cat pulled itself out of the sack. It gave Yuri a glance, then headed directly across the lawn and disappeared under the wire fence and into the ruins.

Yuri stood up and shook himself in the cold. The sack he left by the church. The spoon he held and looked at. He looked around for something to do with it, but nothing came to mind. He tossed it onto the sack and started down the lawn towards home.

****************

Under Raekoja -- the old town hall -- there was a wonderful, mysterious, haunting kohvik that Yuri loved, even though he had only been there once with his mother. It was named after the tragic German story of Tristan and Isolde, a couple that died for their love.

The town hall dated from the 1400s and had been restored to its former glory in the 1980s and 90s -- the walls sand-blasted clean, the interior rebuilt, sagging beams replaced, new windows were installed that look just like the windows from 1400. They were constructed from little diamond-shaped pieces of glass, only 10 cm tall, and bound together with rods of lead to form a whole window. The glass was wrinked and had little bubbles of air that made the world outside look blurry and only half-real.

The top of the city hall had been restored a museum and concert hall. Yuri had been there with his school for history lessons. The main hall had huge leather seats for the noblemen to sit in. The rock walls were smoothly covered with plaster and the columns were painted in chevrons of bright color. One bit of the old wall was exposed to show faded designs of a similar nature.

But it was below the town hall that entranced Yuri most. At the lower end of the town hall (for the entire plaza in front of it sloped down towards the sea), a heavy wooden door opened into a vaulted half-basement, where the kohvik was.

When Yuri and his mother walked in, it was like going 1000 years back in time. There were three small chambers. The largest was just large enough for a counter, a coffee machine, a pastry case, and several small tables. The ceiling, which supported the town hall above, was four meters high, arched with the rough stones forming a neat curve. Some iron hooks with rings protruded from the ceiling here and there in no particular order. Yuri imagined criminals from 1000 years back, suspended from them as they were lashed. There were only a couple electric lights. The rest of the illumination came from tapers that burned in wroth-iron candle sticks on each table.

As they sat there drinking, Yuri imagined himself dressed in a great grey cloak, with gilded vest and long pointy shoes. He was the there with his fellow noblemen to plot a war against the invading Germans. They would surprise the German Knights and drive them from Estonia!

****************

In a spoon hunt, there was always the danger of getting caught, which made it very exciting. Yuri was careful. He would never just pick up a spoon and put it into his pocket. He would lay a book on the table and then slide it off with the spoon underneath.

Other times he would slip it up his sleeve or into his glove. If there was already a spoon on the floor, he would lean down and pick it up. He would slip it down his sock, then straighten up and pretend to put it on the table.

Oh! Yuri was clever! He would lay in bed and think about new ways of hiding spoons.

If he could, Yuri would choose a table with lots of cups on it. That way it would be less evident that one spoon was missing.

If he thought people might be watching him, or even it there were just a person alone at the table facing him, someone who wasn't distracted by reading a book or newspaper, Yuri would skip stealing a spoon that day.

Still, it was dangerous and Yuri had come very close to getting caught in Maisa Mook.

Maisa Mook was the oldest Kohvik in Tallinn, it had been a cafe since 1860, a time so long ago that Yuri couldn't even imagine it. It still had the aura of that time, with the tall narrow mirrors that stretched up from the cherry wood wainscoat. When Yuri looked in them, he saw himself in top hat and frock coat. The stone floors were well-worn marble and were inlaid with the geometric patterns that were so popular back then. There were a dozen small wooden tables with inlays of six-sided stars in the same dark cherrywood. A couple larger marble table for larger groups were situated at the corners of the room.

There were hat racks, always filled with hats and winter coats (Yuri always hung his coat on the one in the middle of the room so that he could feel himself part of the time). Cherrywood posts ran up between the mirrors to the ceiling, which was covered in regal patterns of circles and squares. The border of the ceiling was accented with bright gold paint (real gold, Yuri was certain).

Facing the street was a great window four meters wide, through which the passerbys outside could be seen. And, if one looked at the window just right, one could make out the reflection of the flag flying from the Russian Embassy on the opposite side of the street. Royality had drunk coffee here!

Yuri walked in through the two big red cherry wood doors. The first door kept the wind out. The second kept the warmth in. There was a mat between them where you were supposed to scrape the snow from your boots.

To the left there were a set of glass cases filled with cakes and pies and other sweets which people bought and took home. In front of the doors there was a smaller glass case on the counter filled with pasteries and rolls to be eaten there. There was a juice machine on the back wall and a capuchinno machine on the counter on the far side from the pastery case. The waitresses took your order between the two.

Most of the waitresses were Russian. Of course they all spoke Estonian now, though not very well. It seemed odd to Yuri that he, only ten years old, spoke both languages perfectly but these grown-ups didn't. The Russians had a strong accent when spekaing Estonian, and made frequent mistakes. The Estonians usually spoke Russian better, but still far from perfectly.

Yuri knew all of the women behind the counter. Olga was the newest. She was young and pretty. All the men made up reasons to talk to her when they could. She was always nice to Yuri and often gave him little pieces of chocolate that had "broken" or a piece of a bun "that didn't turn out right." Tiia and Irina were his mother's age and OK. There were a couple more girls who worked part-time, then there was Marina. She was his grandmother's age and seemed to be the boss.

It was always Marina who would tell the others what to do. It was always Marina who would urge people to hurry on if there weren't enough tables. And it was Marina who almost caught him.

This happened the previous fall, when it was already cold, but not yet snowing. Yuri had felt her giving him the evil eye. She was either suspicious about something, or perhaps she just didn't like him. Yuri had found a table with a couple of cups left on it and a single spoon.

He could feel her keeping an eye on him, though she never looked right at him. When she stepped into the back room, Yuri slid the spoon up into the spine of his history book. This was a new hiding place he had just figured out, which he thought very clever.

As soon as he stood to leave, Marina came right over. She took one glance at the table, and grabbed him by the collar.

"Where is it?" She demanded, shaking him. "I've been watching you. There is always a spoon missing when you leave. "Now give it to me!"

Yuri shook his head and mumbled something that was supposed to be "No."

Marina was furious. "When you came in there was one spoon on that table. Now it's gone. Don't lie to me! Give back!" She started patting him down. "I know you have it!"

She checked his jacket pockets, his parts pockets. She felt down his pants and even in his socks. Nothing.

She opened his book. There was nothing there. She rechecked everwhere with no success.

Yuri was petrified, but also excited. When she felt his back pockets, he gasped. It felt so exicting -- both forbidden and thrilling. He desperately wanted her to do it again.

"I know you have it!" She screamed at him. "Where is it??" Everyone was staring at them. The two other girls behind the counter were whispering to each other.

"I don't have ..." his voice was a whisper.

Marina checked him a third time. "Take off your shoes!" He did. But she found nothing. She even shook his history book, but the spoon was firmly wedged and refused to come out. Marina was beside herself.

"OK. Maybe I can't find it. But I know you're the one who's been taking them. Get out this cafe and never come back! I'm telling everyone that if they see you to call me. Understand?"

She put her face, contorted with rage, right up to his. "Understood?"

Yuri nodded, his head bobbing up and down in little terrified nods.

"Get out!"

Yuri fumbled with the door and left, his whole body trembling. It was both the most frightening and the most exciting event in his life. Later, at home in bed, he would have dreams about it. It terrified him and thrilled him at the same time.

****************

Across the plaza from Raekoja stood the oldest apothecary in all of Europe. In a room next to the sales counter there was a museum filled with ancient motars and pestles, mixing bowls, copper pots for boiling potions, scales, tongs, knives, spoons, and bottles. Hundreds of tiny bottles filled with every herb or spice that ever existed. It was a reminder of just how ancient his town was.

Attached to the apothecary was another building from the same era that now held a fancy restaurant, and that in turn was connected to the next building by an archway. There was something about archways that Yuri loved. Just to walk through them, to touch the old walls and look up at the stones that made up the arch was a pleasure. Even better was the fact that just past the archway, in the narrow alleyway that led to Puhavaimu, was a Kohvik of unique character.

It was in the half-basement of an old building, with the same arched ceilings that held up Raekoja, only these ceilings were low and plastered smooth and painted dark yellow-brown. There were candles on the tables with odd little elelctric lights overhead. They were narrow copper tubes that came out from the plaster and flared into bells, the same size and shape as Easter lillies. Dim electric lights inside gave just enough extra light to make it possible to read.

Kehrwieder was often filled with gymnasium students reading, or talking, or arguing. There were often foreigners chatting away in odd languages. It was more expensive than Maisa Mook, but not too much more. And in the dim light, with so many students and so much going on, it was simple to find a spoon and conceal it.

****************

Saturday, after finishing his chores, Yuri headed over to see what was happening at the refuge. As he passed the church and onto Ruutli, he saw a bunch of cars parked on the sidewalks and a dozen people near the gate. Some of them were in work clothes, others in suits. Everyone was talking excitely.

Yuri spotted Sergi and Vladimir coming out of the gate. Sergi had a big white bandage around his head and another on his cheek. He turned away from Yuri and disappeared down Ruutli. Vladimir stopped at the truck and did something with the tools inside.

"Hi, kid!," Vladimiar said as Yuri approached. "How's the cat?"

"He's OK. I took him over there," he pointed to the church, "and gave him some food."

"That's nice," said Vladimiar. "Did you take it home?"

Yurh shook his head timidly. "He ran into the ruins. I don't know where he is."

"That's to be expected, kid," Vladimir shut a case in the truck with a pang! and slid out "Sergi thinks he might have rabies. Did you see what's going on inside?"

"Ej -- no."

"Big excitement. We are now a historical reserach site." He led Yuri into the courtyard. "After we pulled down that wall, we were digging out all the old junk that was buried there. Sergi saw this crack in the wall that went down and he broke it open with his digging rod. It went down three meters! At the bottom, there was a chamber! A hidden chamber. They say no one had seen it for at least 200 years!"

"Think of that." Validimir was excited. "We were the first one to see it in 200 years."

It was where the refuge wall used to be. There was sloping tunnel leading down beneath the house. A ladder could be seen decending into the chamber. Men and women in overalls were standing around it. Ever now and then someone would emerge carrying an object -- a box, a book, an iron hook, a staff. Each time, all the people above would gather around it, looking at it, inspecting it in detail, discussing it loudly. Then the leader would take it to a truck where a woman would take it, make some notes in abook, then place it into a box of its own.

Each find was treated with the same interested and excitement.

"One of them told me it was a witch's chamber." Vladimir's eyes sparkeled with excitement. "They found a stone with a pentagon engraved in it, a chauldron , lots of bottles filled with strange things, and a big black book. I bet it's a book of magic spells!"

"Wow" was all Yuri could manage. "Wow."

A couple of men with bright blue, black, and white (the Estonian colors) jackets emblazoned with "Eesti TV" came through the gate and started an animated conversation with a man in a suit who appeared to be the director. The three of them gestured, pointed at the wall, the remains of the overhang, the truck.

"Could you two leave now?" The director asked. "We need to get the television crew set up. I don't think we'll need you any more today." This he said to Valdimir "Why don't you poke your nose back in about an hour? And could you park your truck in the lot? We're going to need more room."

"Will do," Validmir replied. "Do I get paid?"

The director gave him an irritated look. "Yes, you're on full wages all day." He started to turn away then addressed Valdimir again, waving a finger at him. "But no vodka. If we need you, I want you sober."

Vladimir grunted an insulted aquiescence.

The director waved them out. "If you want to watch, go up there," and pointed at the retaining wall where a few curious passerbys were gathered. They were all bundled up, hoods pulled over their faces against the slight, but freezing breeze. All but one.

She was an old woman, very old. She was dressed in rags that couldn't possibly have kept her warm, though she didn't seem bothered by the cold. Her hair was black and grey and wild. It was knotted, torn and tangled. Her face was pock-marked with warts or cancer or something. She held a twig broom in one hand and in the other arm, held against her breast, apparently quite content, lay the cat.

"Out!" the dirctor insisted. The passed a camera crew in the archway.

"Paid to drink coffee!" Valdimir exclaimed "Not bad, eh?" He got into his truck and backed it onto the street. His head out the window, Valdimir backed the truck up Ruutli and into the parking lot by the church.

"Yurichka durichka." Karl, Toivo, and Johan were coming up the street, packing snowballs. "Did little Yuri almost go boom? It's dangerous to cross the big mean street. These are Estonian streets. They're very dangerous for little half-breed boys."

Yuri backed up on the far sidewalk as the trio approached. He cowered against the stone wall bordering the parking lot. The old feeling of utter terror took over and he curled up against the wall, watching his tormentors approach.

"Merry Christmas!" Karl yelled and heaved his snowball.

The snowball fell apart in the air. It was too cold to make snowballs. A light power is all that hit Yuri.

"I guess this calls for a personal touch" Karl said calmly, sarcastically, and the three boys surrounded Yuri. "You look hot. How about a little snow down the jacket?"

Yuri just cowered against the wall as Karl pulled back his hood. He cowered, shivered, his eyes closed, waiting for the snow.

"Hey! You punks!"

The snow never came. Yuri sat against the wall, eyes tightly shut, shaking from fear.

"Come on kid. They're gone." Vladimiar was kneeling before him "It's OK."

Yuri looked up slowly, ashamed of being a coward, afraid of the snow, afraid of what Valdimir must think of him.

"Your mom's Estonian?"

Yuri nodded. Valdimir pulled him onto his feet.

"Your dad's Russian?"

Yuri nodded again.

"And they're divorced." Yuri continued to nod.

"And those boys beat you up because you're a 'half-breed' and you're small. And you're afraid." Yuri continued to nod.

"I know all about it." Vladimir spoke in a sad, sympathetic tone. "That was me." He snorted. "Still is. Only now it's just Sergi who abuses me. I mean he doesn't beat me up or anything. He just pushes me around. He's my boss."

"We'll go get some coffee and you'll tell me all about it."

Vladimir took Yuri's hand and led him up Ruutli past the church, past where the stairway came down from Tompea, past an old woman who standing there.

She was just standing, no expression on her face, staring at them. Yuri looked back at her. She was even uglier than she had looked on the hill. It would be easy to have nightmares about her. But she did nothing. She just stood there and watched them, petting the cat with her thumb. Yuri thought it was purring.

Vladimir led him down Lai tee past the bright red, blue, and white flag of the Russian embassy. "This is my favorite Kohvik. My mom used to bring me here when I was little. It's the oldest and best in all of Tallinn."

"Tere-tere," Vladimir greeted the Estonian girl behind the counter, "Uks Kohvi ja..." he looked at Yuri, "Coca-cola?"

The girl looked at Yuri and suggested "Apelsini mahl?"

Yuri nodded. One coffee, one orange juice.

"You've been here before."

"Uh-huh. Mom gives me money so I can sit somewhere safe... uh, warm." He corrected himself, "after school."

"Oh" Yuri noticed Marina was glaring at him from the pastery counter. He pretended not to see her.

They took their drinks and settled at one of the marble tables in the back of the cafe, away from the other patrons.

"So tell me about it."

With only a little encouragement, from Vladimir, Yuri told him more than he had ever told anyone. Every now and then Valdimir would nod or agree "That's what it was like for me too."

Yuri talked about his parents, the incessent running battles with Karl and the other boys. All the agonies of school and unsympathetic teachers. He even told Vladimiar about the refuge and the cat. He didn't say anything about Heli or the spoons.

Valdimir listened and listened more, saying very little until the end. "I can tell you what you have to do. It sounds hard, but it isn't really. Yuri pursed his lips, then chewed at them nervously, looking up at Vladimir, hopefully, doubtfully.

"You have to fight them." Validr said simply. "You don't have to beat them. Your don't even have to hit them very hard. But you have to fight." Yuri's eyes grew wide and his face cringed. He sank back in his chair.

"I know. It sounds impossible. But it's not that hard. They're going to beat you up anyway, right? They can't beat you up any more then they already do, right? So all you have to do is to let them know that you're trouble."

"Here's what you do. Sit up straight now and look at me." Yuri remained hunched over. "Come on now, straighten up." Vladimir pulled Yuri upright in his chair.

"They've beaten you up 100 times already. This will just be number 101. The next time you see Karl, I don't care where, anywhere. In school, in the street, on the playground. You take a running leap at him, yell as loud as you can and jump on him. Hit him as much as you can for ten seconds. Just ten seconds. And then curl up, because he's going to be beat the crap out of you.

"You're not going to beat him up. He's bigger than you. But you do this a couple of times and he'll start avoiding you. He'll call you crazy, the teachers might give you detention, but who cares? You do this a couple of times and he will find someone else to pick on."

Yuri stared at Valdimir. Half of him was terrified. Half of him was dressed in armour, beating back the Tutonic knights at the gates of Tallinn.

****************

Sundays were Yuri's day with his father. It was always as mystery how it would go If his father had been drinking on Saturday night, he wouldn't even wake up until noon. Then Yuri would take the bus out and they'd usually just talk and walk around in the woods.

If his father had watched a hockey match Saturday night, then Yuri could be sure it would be a day of physical torture. His father would be full of energy and enthusiam and would want Yuri to share it. He'd run in the hills and insist Yuri keep up. He'd bring a stop watch and make Yuri run up the steep slope next to the ski jump, urging him on to beat his previous time.

Yuri loved his time with his father even if he was demanding. The only time his father would hit him was when he knew he deserved it -- when he lied or refused to push himself when his father demanded it. It was OK to be slow, just as long as he was honestly trying.

The bus ride was fun. His mother would give him two tickets, tell him to be careful, then kiss him goodbye. As long as his father had't called to tell him to hurry, Yuri could take his time.

****************

After school on Monday, Yuri went straight to the refuge. From Ruutli there was nothing to be seen. A wire gate had been erected in front of the archway and a sign in Russain and Estonian stated that the are was closed for archaeological research.

Yuri went back to the stairway that led up to Toompea and made his way past the city shield towards the lower garden. There were a couple of people standing one level up, watching the archaeologists below. A rope with a sign on it blocked the stairway down.

There was much happening and people would come watch for a few minutes, then continue on their way. Yuri caught a few snatches of conversation. A woman was explaining the value of studing city history, a couple of teenagers were talking about witches and pretending to cast spells on each other. One converstation in particular caught his ear.

"413 spoons. New ones. No one has any idea of how they could have gotten there. There was a crack in the floor and when they pried it open there they were!"

But it was still cold and the couples hurried on. Yuri watched them mount the stairway towards Tompea. There were a few people on the top level too, who paused to watch the activity. One of them held a cat.

It was the old woman! Yuri stared at her. She looked 200 years old. Her skin was wrinkled and spotted. Her hair was wild, sticking out from under a pointed hat in all directions. Her clothes were equally ragged and ancient. She wore a black woolen cape and a dirty brown dress. The wind didn't seem to bother her. She simply stood and watched. Others came and left. She stayed.

"Well, if it isn't out little thief!" Marina came up the stairs, a look of discust in her eyes. "I told you never to come back to the cafe and what did you do?"

"I didn't. I didn't mean to." Yuri cowered. "It was him, Valdimir, who took me there."

"I don't care who took you there. Let them take you somewhere else." She took hold of Yuri's jaw and held his face up to hers. "I never, never want to see your ugly little face again. Understand?"

Yuri nodded. He was frightened, but he also wanted her to frisk him for spoons again.

She slapped him with her free hand. "That is a warning. If you come back, you will regret it!"

She left him and started up the stairs. The old woman watched silently.

****************

Over the next week, Yuri noticed the old woman wandering around the old town. She never spoke to anyone. She just looked at everything, the cat comfortably nestled in her arms.

In a city as small as Tallinn, especially in the walled section of the old town, Yuri knew all of the regular people on the street. There weren't that many and anyone who was the least unusual stood out. So it was odd that this old woman should suddenly show up.

Other people noticed her too. The kids at school made up stories. "She's the first wife the Konstine Pats who went crazy and escaped from the hospital."

"She's a no~id, a witch from Hiiumaa, and she's come to put a curse on Tallinn."

"She flys on a broom at night and throws dead rats at children."

"And she's a champion at Quidditch!"

His mother even mentioned her. "She's all in rags and she smells. The police should pick her up."

From his father, Yuri discovered that the police had tried, but couldn't find her.

"I ran into my old friend Sergi. He's retired now. He's almost 70 and has trouble walking. But he's friends with some of the police and he knew they were looking for her. So he's at Maisa Mook and he sees her standing in front of the embassy. And there's an officer at another table in the cafe."

"Well, Sergi tells him. The officer gets up right away and goes out, but she's gone. The guy looks up and down the street, but she's gone. Then, not two minutes after the officer gives up, there she is again!"

****************

Although Yuri saw Karl at school several times, it was only from a distance. As they were going in different directions, he hadn't felt the need to heed Valdimir's advice yet. On Friday, this changed, when he spotted Karl and the the others coming up Lai from the opposite direction on his way to school. The three boys spotted Yuri at the same time and they stopped at the intersction of Lai and Suur Klostri. They were waiting for him.

Inside, Yuri felt his stomach knot up. He felt weak, nervous, doomed. But he didn't stop walking. His mind seemed to close down. He wasn't really thinking about anything. He was walking down a long, narrow tunnel, straight towards his doom and there was nothing he could do about it. He continued to walk.

Karl was saying something, but Yuri couldn't hear any words, just vague sounds. There were other people on the street, but they weren't real. Or at least they weren't here, where he was. There was only Yuri and Karl. Even Toivo and Johan were only shadows.

Karl was tossing a snowball and catching it, waiting. He was waving to Yuri to come closer. Yuri continued.

Then he started to run. At five meters, the snowball hit him in the face, but he didn't feel it. He ran at full speed right at Karl. Karl looked surprised and started to dodge out of the way. Yuri flung himself at Karl, rolling himself up into a ball and flying through the air.

He bounced off and went tumbling along the street like a snowball himself. The thick snow cushionsed his fall, but Yuri was unaware of even that. He rolled past the other two boys without seeing them, sliding further down Lai. When he stopped, he lay motionless, looking at Karl.

There was yelling. Somewhere he heard yelling, but it was dull and came from 1000 km away.

Karl hadn't even been knocked down. He was laughing and started after Yuri. Two shadows followed him. But none of them made it. Each of the three hit a patch of ice and fell, face down, onto the street.

Yuri remained crouching, watching, not hearing, not feeling, not even being in this world.

Karl was trying to get up, his face covered with red snow. Karl was yelling, or perhaps crying, holding his nose. The two shadows were doing the same thing. There was an adult examining Karl, talking to him. A teacher. There were kids running to see what was happening. They were yelling, pointing at Yuri. More people, another teacher.

Yuri hadn't moved. He still wasn't really there. Everything was happening on another planet. Yuri was just watching through a telescope. A teacher led Karl away towards school. Toivo and Johan had also disappeared.

Wack! Mr. Laar, the history teacher, slapped Yuri across the face. "What the hell was that? You do NOT attack other student in this school!" Another slap. The world was real again. Mr. Laar was yelling at him, it was ringing in his ears. His head hurt from rolling on the cobblestones, his face stung where Mr Laar had slapped him, where the snowball had hit him. He was cold and there was snow melting down his chin.

Mr. Laar shook him. "You're in big trouble, young man! Wait until the headmaster is through with you! Now get up! Move!"

Yuri stood up and followed Mr. Laar, who was half-drragging him by the ear. Two dozen kids had gathered, talking, laughing, pointing. "Did you see what he did them? All three of them are bloody! He almost killed them!"

Mr. Laar yelled at the kids to get to class and dragged Yuri down Suur Klostri, right past an old woman holding the cat.

Yuri stopped and stared at her. Ugly, ragged, she stared back, no expression what-so-ever on her face. The cat stared too.

"Move it!" Mr Laar jerked his ear and Yuri followed.

The aftermath wasn't bad at all. The headmaster yelled at him, gave him a weeks detention, and ordered him to come an hour early to shovel snow. The other teachers wagged their fingers at him and warned him against such behavior.

The kids' reactions were the most surprising. They waved their fingersand called him a Russian mafia man, but at the same time, they held him in awe. They seemed even a bit afraid. He had given three of the meanest boys in school bloody noses and come away without a scratch!

****************

By the following Thursday it was obvious that the old woman was in reality a no~id. The archaeologists had reported that a pentagon had been painted on the floor of the hidden celler and there were traces of human blood in the cauldron. They said that the books they had found were filled with herbal recipies and cures for various aliments, but everyone knew that they really meant magic potions!

Everyone in town had seen her, but no one ever talked to her. The kids at school reported seeing her perform magic spells and they were absolutely certain that she had enchanted several students. Strange things happened when she was around.

Yuri didn't really believe all those stories, but still, he didn't entirely disbelieve them. There was no question that she was mysterious, and there was no question that she carried the cat -- his cat -- everywhere.

Without the refuge, Yuri no longer had anywhere to go after school while his mother was giving lessons. He spent more time in the kohviks, spent more time reading and spent more time just walking around the town. With no reason to steal spoons, it was no longer so exciting to visit the kohviks either.

Coming up Vaike-Karja after a heavy snowfall, Yuri noticed the witch. This is what everyone called her now and this is how Yuri thought of her. She was standing on the sidewalk between several pieces of wood that were propped up against the side of a building. She was holding the cat and staring at Yuri.

"If she's been buried in the celler for 500 years, she probabaly doesn't know what those planks are for," Yuri thought. "She certainly doesn't know how to read." He approached her.

"Vabanduse -- Excuse me," Yuri started. She said nothing and didn't change her expression. "These boards, they're supposed to warn you not to stand here because the snow on the roof might fall."

She didn't react.

"It's dangerous."

Nothing.

The way she stared at him made Yuri uncomfortable, but didn't scare him. He reached towards the cat.

The witch didn't move a muscle, but the cat stretched out its nose to sniff Yuri's hand.

"Why am I not surprised?" A sharp, rough voice startled him. Yuri turned to see Marina coming up the other side of the street.

"A dirty little boy and a dirty old woman. Does she help you steal spoons? Or maybe something else?"

"There's nothing wrong with her! She's a sourceress, a no~id. She's from Tallinn 500 years ago. She's nice." Yuri was surprised at his outburst. Somewhere inside he recognized a certain affection for "his" no~id.

Marina glared at him and continued up the street. Yuri watched her go. When he turned around, he was surprised to find the old woman gone. He had't heard anything. She was simply gone.

Mystified, Yuri look up and down the street. There were a few people, but no witch. He looked at the snow around where he was standing. He could make out his own footprints clearly, but no others. There were other footprints, but they were all old and had snow in them. He didn't see how she could have left.

"Well, if it isn't the big bully of Gustav Adolph." Yuri looked up to see Karl, Toivo, and Johan. "You were just lucky. If it hadn't been so slippery, you wouldn't have had a chance."

The three of the crowded around Yuri. "Do you want to show us what a big man you are now? Huh?" Karl shoved him. "There's no ice to slip on this time."

Yuri felt his stomach knot up. His legs started to shake, his arms grew heavy, like lead, his brain faded, and the world grew foggy.

The three of the were yelling at him, calling him names. There were shoving him. Or really they were shoving another boy. Yuri couldn't really hear what they were saying, he certainly couldn't feel it when they shoved him. The real Yuri was standing a long ways away and was just watching another little boy getting picked on.

The boys were pushing the other Yuri against the wall. They were yelling, packing snowballs. Then the boy against the wall lowered his head and charged Karl like a bull. Karl fell down, but the other two grabbed him and pushed him back against the wall. They started hitting him.

Then there was a big rumble. The two boys looked up, and were knocked over by the weight of the snow tumbling from the roof. Flat against the wall, the little boy was almost untouched. Only a dusting of snow from the avalanche hit him.

Johan and Toivo flailed and screamed in the mountain of snow, struggling to stand up. Toivo was holding his head, moaning.

The boy against the wall walked calmly over to each one of them. He kicked them, grabbed them by their ears and yelled at them. "Never touch me again!"

Yuri could make out the sound of adults yelling. He saw them rush past the small boy to pull Karl and the others out of the snow. The boy continued up the street, ignoring everything around him. He didn't even look at the old woman with the cat who was standing across the street.

****************

That was the end.

Everything was different after that day. Karl and the others still made fun of him and called him names, but only from a distance. Certainly they never attacked him again.

The next time he passed Maisa Mook, it was draped in black. Black crepe paper was hung around around all the windows and on the walls behind the counter. Someone from the kohvik had died. Yuri was sure who it was and had no desire to go in and confirm his suspicion. It was all over and he didn't want to think about it any more.

Work at the refuge was finished too. When Yuri came by on Saturday, Vladimir and Sergi were cleaning up and loading the last of their tools into the truck. There were some other men in blue overalls who were bringing in new stones, mortar, etc.

"Hey, kid," Vladimir called out to him. "How's the cat?"

"He's fine," Yuri replied. "He's with the old woman. He seems very happy."

"Ah, the old woman. Wasn't she strange? She was here every day. She'd stand up there under the wall and just watch. She'd be there for hours every day. And then, last night, while I was packing up, she talked to me!"

"She talked?" Yuri was surprised. "I never heard her say anything."

"It was strange. It was getting dark, I was really cold, the wind was blowing hard. But it didn't bother her. Nothing ever seemed to bother her."

"She came right down to the lower level, and she called out to me. 'Watchman. Is the town finished yet?' You know, just like in the legend. So I yelled back 'No! It won't be finished for a very long time.' And she turned around and disappeared. It was weird. I saw her turn around. Then I bent down to pick up something, and when I looked up, she was gone!"

"It was only two seconds. There was no way she could have run up the stairs that fast. I climbed up to look and I couldn't see anything. I couldn't even find her footprints! I suppose she could have jumped down into the next courtyard, but I can't imagine it. An old woman like that jumping down three meters?"

"It was magic," Vladimir gave Yuri a knowing nod. "She was a no~id, just like everyone said. I figure she came back to check on her town. It's OK, so she left. I'll bet you 100 kroon you'll never see her again."