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says, “We have another individual in this class who is a child of the enemy of the people.”
    My dad always tells me to breathe through my nose if I choke on something. This way, you won’t suffocate. But this is worse than choking—I can’t breathe at all, not even through my nose. I glance at the door, judging the distance. If I run to it, she won’t be able to stop me. But I don’t run. Nina Petrovna says, “Sasha Zaichik!” and points her finger at me. Then everybody cranes his neck to take a good look at the child of an enemy of the people. I
squeeze my eyes shut. Suddenly, the weight of the banner I’m holding is unbearable. In the next moment, it hits the floor.
    â€œPick up the banner, Zaichik,” Nina Petrovna says calmly. I open my eyes. Nina Petrovna is not even looking at me. It was all in my imagination. She’s facing the back of the class, her finger aimed at Vovka instead. “Sobakin, why don’t you tell us what your father was accused of? Wrecking, wasn’t it?”
    People gasp and turn to gape at Vovka. Someone whistles. When I finally look myself, Vovka is rising from his seat slowly, drilling into Nina Petrovna with the same scary eyes he turned on me in the boys’ toilets.
    â€œYou should know, children, that Sobakin’s father was executed as an enemy of the people,” says Nina Petrovna. “Does it explain his hideous anti-Soviet behavior and the likely fact he was conspiring with Finkelstein? What do you think, children?”
    Before anyone has time to answer, Vovka flies at
Nina Petrovna, grips her by the throat, and begins strangling her. Nina Petrovna’s face turns red and her eyes bulge. She makes gurgling noises and starts kicking up her legs. Nina Petrovna and Vovka knock things to the floor and bump into desks.
    Everybody jumps up; some are screaming, but most are laughing. I know the Pioneers never get involved in fights, but before I know what I’m doing, I join in and try to separate them. Now there are three of us stumbling and grunting and bumping into desks for what seems like a long time, until somebody runs out to fetch Matveich and the others. Soon they are dragging Vovka and me off to the principal’s office, with Nina Petrovna staggering behind and sobbing.

23
    WE ARE TOLD to wait while the principal talks to Nina Petrovna. They argue behind the closed door, her hoarse voice barely a whisper. I wonder if she sounds like this from Vovka’s trying to strangle her. We are waiting on the same bench that I saw Four-Eyes sitting on just this morning. This morning when I came here to get the principal’s signature, he was planning to get into Lubyanka to see his parents, sitting in exactly the same spot I’m sitting in now. I wonder if he’s with his dad already.
    I steal a glance at Vovka. “Sorry about your
dad,” I say. He doesn’t even look at me. He sits there, chewing on his nails.
    I understand how he must feel. If my dad were shot, wouldn’t I be angry? What’s hard to believe is this: Vovka’s dad, an enemy of the people? When Vovka and I were friends, I went to his apartment hundreds of times. I liked his dad. He was a good Soviet citizen, modest, a devoted Communist. How could he be a wrecker? I start thinking about it but get nowhere. It’s just too confusing. Then I remember what my dad used to say: “There’s no smoke without a fire.” If someone is arrested and executed, there must be a good reason for it. The State Security wouldn’t be shooting people for nothing. What about my dad, then? He was arrested.
    â€œSobakin! Zaichik! Get in here!” the principal yells from his office.
    I get up, but Vovka doesn’t move. I feel bad for him, so I pat him on the shoulder, urging him to join
me. Out of the blue, he leaps up and grabs me by the collar. “I was this close to strangling that teacher scum if not for you. Trying