The Grayling

by Cheryl Freier

  She smiled and asked the question, “have you ever been rich?” He shrugged his shoulders and looked at her and he spoke in a very soft tone of voice, “I have forgotten to think about money”. He looked down at the ground and then at the sky.

  She came closer to him. She looked at him for a minute with questioning eyes. She spoke in a soft tone of voice, “it has been hard for the last five years. He looked up at her and smiled and she smiled back.

  The both of them breathed in and out, and Sam cautioned her, my brother Martin always tells me when I feel like I am going to despair that, “We must remember in our hearts that we are Jews”. She nodded her head as if to say, “yes”, while tears came to her eyes. Sam stared at the sky. She stared at the same direction in the sky.

  The color of the sky was light blue. There was not a cloud to be seen. No airplanes flying overhead. Miles of trees could be seen. No trucks driving up to houses. No soldiers, marching, could be seen. Sam commented, “this place is ‘peaceful; an oasis in the middle of a desert of oppression and depression”. She nodded with her head in affirmation, while she pressed her lips tightly together. Her blue eyes shined with rays of sympathy.

  Many moments passed. She broke the silence by asking, “what do you think you will do after the war?” Sam hesitated, and almost cried–his thoughts jumbled, he said, “it may never end”. He cleared his throat, saying, “I just do not know”.

  “Well, I am going back to my house”, she said with an attitude of confidence. He looked at her, questioningly, and in a soft tone of voice, said, “You never think that maybe your house will not be standing?” She quipped, “no, never” and made a grunting sound. He looked at her with amazement. She answered firmly in a loud voice: “the house will be standing”.

  Realizing that she was in denial, he said, “Well, all right then”. “I was thinking”, he said, as he snapped a branch off from a tree, and then paused.

  She coaxed him to answer her, in a questioning tone, “What were you thinking?” “I was thinking of becoming a jeweler,” he said with a smile. “That sounds good to me”, she said with her arms folded across her chest.

  The color of the sky changed from blue to gray. The clouds were assembling. “Well, I must be going home”, he said to her. She twisted her hips slightly and said, “You can stay for a while longer can’t you?” “Well, I guess for a little while,” and he paused and said, “looks like it is going to rain. I think I would like to get home before the down pour”. “She waved her right hand in the front of her face and said, “Don’t worry about it. You can always come to my hideout”. He looked at her and smiled, and he asked, “are you sure that you have enough room?” “Of course we do”, she answered most assuredly. The cloudiness faded just as suddenly as it had appeared. Like magic, the brightness of the sun shined brightly.

  “How about we walk around the lake?” he asked her. Pausing, he said, “how about I ask you what your name is?” She looked at his eyes, her eyes glowing in the sunshine, and said softly, “Sarah”. He smiled. Together they walked as they left their footprints in the sand–-four feet with the same rhythm, beat of the music. He looked at the ripples in the water. She picked off the tops of the long grass.

  He was thinking, “wouldn’t I like to hold her hand”, and he thought further, “her hand looks so delicate and gentle that it must be cold”. He concluded to himself, “she needs a strong man”, and he sighed, “I am just the one”.

  She was thinking, “with his pointed nose, and dark, wavy brown hair, and milk white skin, and blue eyes, he looks more handsome than a German”, and she shook her head a few times up and down in affirmation. She looked at him and she frolicked in her thoughts, “he is so tall and handsome”. “Hmm”, I wonder what his name is”, she said to herself.

  They walked to the other side of the lake and then rested a few feet away from the edge. They looked at the lake as they continued their walk. “What is your name?” she asked as she moved her head sideways. “Oh”, he stammered, “my name is Samuel”, and he pronounced his name with a voice of distinction. She smiled and nodded her approval.

  Stopping where there was a clearing of the wild grasses, spouting up and extending their tinsel apexes towards the sky, Sam bent down and cupped his left hand. Bringing the clear, pristine water to his mouth, he quickly supped up some water. He breathed in and out and wiped his mouth, saying, “this is really good, fresh-tasting water”.

  He saw her reflection in the water, flowing, flowing gently away with the ripples of the water of the lake. “Don’t disappear on me”, he said quietly to himself, and he got up and wiped his mouth.

  Together, they gazed at the sky and stared quietly into the open and expansive space; both of them wishing for a peace and an end to the war. She spotted a shining, bright star and said, “I wish that I could reach up and pull down that star”. Sam was amused at the thought, and laughed out loud.

  She broke the silence by saying, “what are you going to eat for supper?” He hesitated, because his thoughts were not on food. He answered her, “most likely some of the mushroom bread we had last night”. She exclaimed, “never heard of that kind of bread”. “Well, we have had to be resourceful”, he answered her with a chocking sound in his voice. She paused and then asked, “Do you have anything to put on the bread?” “Oh, yes”, we eat the bread with some of the quince preservatives my mother has made”, he answered, thinking of all of the hard work that went into it. “Your mom must be a really good cook,” she said. Sam smiled as a response.

  The blue skies gave way to a deepening gray color. Thunder roared like a lion and lightening bolted like the sky was angry: all of these were a harbinger of an approaching storm. The rain fell in a downpour. Sam’s jacket got wet in minutes. Sarah’s sweater was wet too. “Well, we had better get under some trees for cover”, Sam declared. Sam spotted a cluster of old trees. “Come on with me over here”, he called to Sarah. She followed and he covered her head and shoulders with his jacket, and they sat under the large trees together. They watched the rain falling. All of the leaves near them soon were covered with droplets of water. Occasionally, a rabbit would dart out of one of the nearby bushes.

  They laughed a little. Sam said, “I am hungry”. Sarah said, “You must come to my hideout and eat with us.

  Sam hesitated, “well, all right, but only if you have enough food”. Sarah quickly answered, “I know that we have enough food”.

  “But how do you really know that?” Sam asked her with a concerned expression in his voice. “I know because once a month we get a delivery of canned food. We bury the cans and use them when we need them”, she told him.

  “Would you have any fresh bread?” Sam thought out loud and asked, but then caught his thoughts.

  Sarah answered with a smile on her face, “Yes. We do. It is rye bread. Do you like rye bread Sam?” she asked.

  He answered without any doubt, as he was licking his lips, “Oh, yes. I love it”. He paused for a moment, with his eyes protruding, and said, “I used to eat it all of the time with fresh butter”.

  The sun came out of hiding behind one of the puffy clouds and it succeeded in growing bigger and moving away from the disappearing cloud. The rain stopped as suddenly as it began. There was the smell of fresh green leaves in the air. The fresh smell of the leaves and the thought of eating fresh, baked rye bread put expressions of joy on their faces.

  They walked slowly side by side for a while. Sam stopped suddenly in his tracks. Sarah hesitated and then asked him, “Why are you stopping?” He replied curtly, “in case you do not know it—there is a war all around us”.

  She hesitated as though she was dazed, and then she looked into his eyes, and she said, “Oh, okay”. “You must remember!” he cautioned her.

  She walked first and then he followed, as she led him into a ravine. Then up an ascending hill and when they reached a clus
ter of bushes, she said, “we are almost there”. Sam cautioned her, as he held his finger on his closed lips, and she just stared at him, barely expressing any thoughts.

  “You must not talk, and you must walk very softly,” he cautioned, while whispering. She pointed to a direction in the air, saying, “Over there, see where there is the cluster of pine trees on the hill?” He looked for a few minutes, sharpening his right eye to project like a telescope and said slowly, “yes”. She continued, “Well, there is underbrush in the midst of the trees and our house is in the midst of the underbrush”. “That sounds fantastic. Wow, what a place to hide”. They walked for a bit.

  “Okay, then lead me to your hideout”, Sam said, as he broke the silence. They walked up the steep hill and walked through and passed the dozens and dozens of thickly set pine trees, almost tripping on the large pine cones that had fallen recently; and there it was: thick brush and in its very midst a large wooden house. With hand hewn shutters, which covered its windows, and noticeable thick planks, deftly glued together for its front door, and it was untouched by the animals in the forest or the severe winters in the forest; the house stood still in time quietly, quite majestic.

  CHAPTER 13

  SAM GOES BACK TO THE WOODS TO SEE HIS QUEEN

  Sam headed for the lake for the thought of ‘her’ propelled him. He walked briskly, but he stopped to look and listen for anything that might mean danger. He began to think about the shrubs and tall trees that surrounded the lake. As he went along on his way, he laughed as he thought, “Just go uphill to get there and downhill to come back–that is the way”. And he started to hum softly to himself as he walked along the trail.

  A raccoon with tiny little hands, whose belly bulged, and whose eyes had a natural black mask, darted out in front of him. Her young ones followed. They chattered softly and moved their little legs in an awkward way, as they struggled to keep up with their mother. Sam called after them, “come back let me see you again”.

  A mist hovered over the well grown trunks and drooping branches of the trees, making it hard to see and he was not sure what he was stepping on; but Sam knew his way. “There are always clusters of trees”, he muttered to himself, and he remembered what Joseph had taught him, “walk close to the stream”, but if the stream is not there, then “walk closely to the trees” and find a path or mark a path so that you can always find the way back”. He felt like he was a shadow–traveling amongst the trees, moving cautiously and in step with all the creatures–-wild, unknown, mystical, and whatever was out there; who knew, but that creature might have thought that Sam was encroaching in the woods on his only territory.

  A thorn from a wild rose bush suddenly jumped up, almost like a wild dog attacking, but not as fierce; it gnawed at his right shoe’s shoelace, and pulled at the lace, and untied it and then it pulled at the tongue of the shoe. He tugged several times, hoping that he would not have to leave the shoe, but finally the thick thorns gave way and receded back to their bush; Sam bent down, retied the shoe, and when he happened to look up, he saw her, the object of his affection–in the distance, reigning supreme, like a queen, walking with soft toes gently on the ground, amongst the small crawling and jumping creatures of the woods.

  The weather was still a little damp, but the ground was warmed by the late afternoon, bright sunshine late in the day. His thoughts were composed mainly about ‘her’, her majestic appearance. He thought to himself that he had found the lady of his life, but she was also a depiction of a queen from long, long ago. She might have looked just like the Queen of Sheba. Oh, he was so happy with himself. He asked himself the question, “should I rush over to her?” Then he realized that it was best to play hard to get. He thought quickly, “have to have a reason for being here”, and he knew that his answer was the cluster of dead trees by the side of the lake. “I will say that I came here for the firewood”, he said as he wobbled his head in affirmation. He bent down and started to gather the twigs, but could not gather two many, because the larger branches stuck to the smaller ones.

  He broke off a few of the taller branches. “All right”, he said, “trees die too”. He began to deftly put together a raft with the wood, putting the branches together and tying them with strong weeds for twine; and in his mind he visualized the raft as a magical raft, which could take him and his family far out to sea to an island where there was prayer all day–and everyone could practice his religion, and where there was not the day-to-day searching for food. His thoughts were interrupted–for she, herself, in the flesh, with her graceful stance came over to him.

  Trying not to notice her, he continued to tear off the branches of the trees. She moved closer to him. He backed up from where he was standing, while tugging with a branch that was hard to tear off. He turned around quickly and said to her, “I almost fell on you”. She looked at him for a brief moment and said, “I just wanted to say hello”. He smiled and chuckled. He said, “Okay, hello to you too”. She smiled. He bent down and picked up some of the branches. She hesitated and stood watching, but after a few minutes, she bent down to pick up some twigs. He said, “thank you. That is very nice of you to help me”.

  “Well, I guess your family will be warm with the firewood”, she said. Sam replied, “Yes, this will help them a lot”. He put the branches in a single pile, forgetting about making a raft. She threw some more dead twigs onto the pile. Sweat poured from Sam’s brow. He wiped his forehead with the corner of his jacket. Squatting and bending his knees quickly bent in the front of him as he sat down on the cold, damp, fertile ground. She stood by his side, but very slowly and delicately. He had coaxed her, saying, “sit down”, and she did. She stared for a minute at his face and then smiled. He said to her, “I have a story to tell you”. She sat with a demure expression on her face and answered, “Yes”. He hesitated and stuttered, and practically spilled out the first word and then it became easier for him to talk to her, “my father has kept us alive”. He hesitated, and then said, “He has taught us to escape from the Nazis at whatever the cost”. His lips tightened on him as an autonomous function of the body.

  “Where are you from?” she asked. He replied, stuttering, “I am from Micholovce”. “Oh, that is a nice place, and did you attend school there?” “Well, I did until the Nazis banned us from attending school”, he answered.

  He, calming down, and breathing in and out, asked her, “What have you been doing with yourself?” She answered with a princess-like demeanor and almost did an arabesque with her hands. With an assured tone in her voice, “I have had a private nanny who has tutored me”.

  “So you did!” the words sprung out spontaneously. He shook his head, but noticed that she was looking uncomfortable, so said, “I am sorry, I should not have asked you that question”. She shrugged her shoulders. She cleared her voice, while she held her nose a little bit in the air, and said, “It doesn’t matter to me what you think about rich people”.

  H thoughts scattered all over his mind. First, he wanted to tell her about his own home, which was a mansion; he remembered the large size of his own bedroom; He gripped his thoughts and remembered something that Martin had once told him, “We must show humility to God, no matter what, and especially now”, and he felt a sense of assurance returning to his thoughts. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, I am not picking on rich people”.

  She smiled and asked the question, “Have you ever been rich?” He shrugged his shoulders and looked at her and he spoke in a very soft tone of voice, “I have forgotten to think about money”. He looked down at the ground and then at the sky. He questioned her while looking at, “what is money, when you are hunted down like a dog?” She frowned, but Sam could see that she was not as affected by the war as he and his family had been.

  She came closer to him. She looked at him for a minute with questioning eyes. She spoke in a soft tone of voice, “it has been hard for the last five years even for me and my family. He
looked up at her and smiled, and she smiled back.

  The both of them breathed in and out, and Sam cautioned her, my brother Martin always tells me when I feel like I am going to despair that, “We must remember in our hearts that we are Jews”. She nodded her head as if to say, “yes”, while tears came to her eyes. Sam stared at the sky. She stared at the same direction in the sky. They felt peace in their hearts.

  The color of the sky was a light blue. There was not a cloud to be seen. No airplanes flying overhead as in most of Europe and now, recently in Slovakia. Miles of trees could be seen–-the green colors and the shades of earth tones were spectacular. There were no trucks with the ‘evil sign’ and ruthless soldiers driving up to houses. No soldiers, marching like robots ready to shoot and kill, with no regard for human life could be seen. Sam commented, “this place is ‘peaceful’; an oasis in time and space, in the middle of a world war, where the innocent are dying in startling numbers, which is considered a desert of oppression and depression, very much the opposite of an oasis. Oh, Let us bless G-d for granting us this ‘momentous moment of peace’”. She nodded with her head in affirmation, while she pressed her lips tightly together. Her blue eyes shined with rays of sympathy.

  Many moments passed by. She broke the silence by asking, “What do you think you will do after the war?” Sam hesitated, and almost cried–his thoughts jumbled in his mind, he breathed in heavily for a minute and then he said, “It may never end”. He cleared his throat, saying, “I just do not know”.

  “Well, I am going back to my house”, she said with an attitude of confidence. He looked at her, questioningly, and in a soft tone of voice, said, “You never think that maybe your house will not be standing?” She quipped, “no, never” and made a grunting sound, “grrrr”. He looked at her with amazement. She answered firmly in a loud voice: “the house will be standing”.

  Realizing that she was in denial, he said, “Well, all right then”. “I was thinking”, he said, as he snapped a branch off from a tree, and then paused. She coaxed him to answer her, in a questioning tone, “What were you thinking?” “I was thinking of becoming a jeweler,” he said with a smile. “That sounds good to me”, she said with her arms folded across her chest.