Novovolynsk, Volyn’ Region, Ukraine

Cash For Refugees interview starts. 

A nine-year-old boy and his mom come closer to the table. 

"Well, okay, good. And after you got out [the basement], where were you going?"

"Hell, if I know," hoarsely answers the mom. She is wearing worn-out black boots and a black shapeless knee-length coat. Her body is sunken into the chair as if the chair was made from wet clay.

But she firmly holds onto the boy, who is standing next to the chair with this indifferently gray, concrete-like look. 

"Someone told us he will get us out, so we left everything in the basement and went with him." she is mindlessly rubbing the boy's shoulder. 

"Ok, give me your docs, please. I'll register you in our database." I'm throwing out my open hand. 

The mom hesitates, it looks like she has coalesced with the boy, but then she slowly detaches her hand from the boy's shoulder and puts it into her purse.

"Everyone here knows that we never can pay you back," she says rapidly. "We all know there is no guarantee that tomorrow we will even need your help."

"Sit quietly," another woman behind the mom says resentfully. 

The rest of the room starts breathing heavily—one elderly man begins choking as if he just went underwater, then wipes his mouth and nose with his red palm.

"If they enter this room and shoot, chances to get out are zero," continues the mom. "You see, these doors are opening outside. Any doors that open outside get us trapped inside. They enter, it's a mass grave."

"Can you just shut up? We all are fed up," says the same woman.

I sit there and want to support the mom with the boy, but don't know how.

Then I can't keep it and ask the boy: "Well, when you grow up, what do you wanna do?" 

And I immediately regret my dumb question.

"I'll dig trenches," he answers with no hesitation.

"Of course, he will," says his mom. "He doesn't know anything, not even grammar." 

I finally finish entering her data. "Wait for two weeks; then money should arrive in your bank account," I say as soulless as a pharmacist after finishing a night shift.

Later that day, I plunged myself into available literature about the efficiency of trench production in difficult climatic conditions during cold winter. It's not that easy.

by Natasha Dukach
at Novovolynsk, Volyn’ Region, Ukraine