What concerned me more was that already I was hazarding wild and ill-informed guesses as to our direction, hopes rapidly becoming prayers that the light of the fire we sought would shortly be visible before us.
My perfunctory invocations to a higher authority were to be disregarded, however, and we continued to wander aimlessly among the trees until darkness had encroached such that we could barely see one another, at which time I reluctantly conceded defeat and proposed to the children that we rest the night.
The proposal was better received than I anticipated, for they were by now exhausted, their tired minds occupied increasingly by their physical needs.
Thankfully our exploration of the forest had thus far brought no unwelcome encounters and the children’s earlier concerns at the forest’s eerie tranquillity had not yet cause to recrudesce.
I made out the nebulous form of a large, fallen tree near to us and announced this would be our camp for the night. It was no more or less comfortable than the resting places of recent evenings and I bolstered the children’s appreciation of our new bed with the observation that it would be both warmer and drier than we had recently enjoyed.
We huddled together against the tree’s trunk to sleep the night, enjoying one another’s bodily warmth, taking comfort from physical contact. I talked quietly of our plans for the morning, of finding food of some sort and of meeting friendly people who might make us welcome, hoping to keep the children’s minds from the reality of our plight: that we were lost in a dark and alien forest without food or water. Strangers in a strange land.
As I exhausted my list of hopes for the morrow, my own voice fell silent and I could hear the restful breathing of Nicolae and Elone. I felt better for knowing they, at least, had found escape in sleep. I hoped and prayed I could soon emulate their achievement but in this I was to prove ill-favoured.
31.
I must have dozed a while at least, for I awoke with a start to the sound of rolling thunder from above. Dusk had given way to starless night, a fuliginous darkness that prevented me even seeing the heads of the children resting on my lap, though gentle hands assured me they were safe and well, sleeping despite the storm raging above the tree-tops.
If the canopy above us thrashed wildly and noisily in the storm, at ground level all was still. The air hardly moved and only the occasional splash of water penetrated the leafy roof to confirm the pouring rain above.
To say I was not scared would be untrue, but after a while I became blasé about the storm above, for we were cocooned by the forest from all but its boisterous sound and the all too frequent flash of lightning that would penetrate the very depth of the woods, illuminating all around us for an fleeting instant, then plunging everything again into the raven pitch of the forest’s night.
At length the storm began to subside, the angle of lightning such that its fulgurations penetrated only the upper levels of our leafy canopy and the thunder rolled more distant, slowly parting our company. The wind eased too and the thrashing of the branches high above became a gentle sway. Still Nicolae and Elone slept, blissfully unaware of nature’s ephemeral temper, and my own thoughts turned once more to join them.
Whether I succeeded a short while I cannot know, but I was next aware of the most blood-curdling of sounds and was in an instant bolt upright, my eyes wide with fear though the darkness was by now impenetrable.
At first I was as bewildered as I was frightened, for I had not been able to identify the sound, and I sat stone still, hardly daring to breathe, fearing what might come next.
For a fleeting moment my mind was filled with the tales of my early childhood, when Grandmama would scare Radu and I with haunting tales from Transylvania, of mythical creatures of the night that survived only by sucking the blood of the living. Instantly I struggled to shut my mind to these memories, remind myself I was twelve years old now, and that we had left our native mountains and their fanciful folklore far behind.
But in the still of the night, for the wind I now realised had deserted us along with the storm it brought, it was not easy to dismiss such childhood memories, and I silently cursed my grandmother’s ability to bring to life the most improbable of fairy-tales. If only Radu were with us now.
Thoughts of my late brother were chased from my mind as the chill sound erupted through the night once more. This time wide awake, there was no mistaking its lupine origin, for the piercing howl of the wolf needed no introduction.
My blood ran cold, my body stiff and trembling. I gathered the stirring bodies of Nicolae and Elone to me, gently rocking them back to sleep, determined they should not share the fear that now held me tight in its grip.
Perhaps it was imagination, perhaps reality, but I now began to hear movement around us, though the inky darkness offered no chance of visual confirmation. My body shook with fear and, if laodicean of belief, still I began praying as I had not done in many years, begging deliverance from the evils that were even now surrounding us, preparing to seal our grisly fate.
The wolf howled again, still distant, but closer I was convinced, for its haunting call steered its way unerringly through the maze of trees to find its bourn: my very soul.
I shut my eyes tightly, as if this might aid in my defence, and clutched the children to me, determined that whatever the nature of our tormentor it would have to consume me first, to the very last bone of my frail body, before I would relinquish protection of my charges.
So disposed I sat and trembled through the night until eventually, whether in answer to my prayers or in response to fatigue I could not honestly say, I was delivered into blissful sleep.
32.
I awoke to the touch of Elone’s tiny hands on my shoulder, rocking me gently to release me from slumber, and I reluctantly opened tired eyes to the new day. The dark of night had been chased away by the morning sun and even beneath the green canopy the dawn’s refreshed light penetrated to reveal the forest in all its splendour.
The thrusting trunks that stretched into the sky all around us were somehow diminished by the light of day, their menacing shadows held firmly at bay. The chimerical demons of the night had been banished to their lair and I took heart that the howling wolves that had prowled restlessly through the dark hours would now themselves be dormant.
“Anca! Anca! Look at Nicolae! He has new boots, Anca! Look!”
Elone’s excited tones demanded my immediate attention and I followed her gaze to see my little brother hopping ungainly between the trees with what at first sight did indeed appear to be a gigantic boot about his foot.
My bemusement turned to amusement as Nicolae came closer and I realised he had found a hollow trunk among the debris of the forest floor perfectly suited to the size of his worn leather shoe and even now he was attempting an ungainly walk with the log adhered to his ankle.
I called out in encouragement, happy to see him smiling and laughing, conscious always that any preoccupation from our more immediate concerns of food and family were a welcome distraction. Elone rejoined Nicolae at play and I lay back, watching them, letting my body relax after an uncomfortable, all but sleepless night.
If the torment of the evening past was now only a memory, still I was determined I should not endure it another night and so gave thought immediately to finding the source of the fire we had identified the previous day. It was imperative that we achieve our aims soon, for the forest offered even less in the way of vegetation than the hills we had left behind. Only fungi seemed to grow in abundance here, and I knew not which was edible and which would prove deleterious, for none were familiar to me. To find the dwelling we sought, or else to exit the forest, was a matter for some urgency.
I ran my fingers through tangled hair in a futile attempt at emulating a comb and got to my feet, checking as always that Raisa’s amulet was still safe around my neck. I brushed the detritus from my smock, pausing just briefly to entertain the otiose thought that it would benefit from some detergent.
“Nicolae! Elone! It’s
time to play our little game again. Remember?”
“Must we, Anca?” Nicolae protested with a sigh. He was thoroughly enjoying his new game, his trunked foot noisily crunching the twigs and leaves where he stood, and it seemed almost a shame to persist in my instruction.
“This is much more fun!” Elone declared, and I knew immediately that to call a halt to their game now would serve only to dampen their spirits and bring an unwanted solemnity to the day ahead.
Watching Elone dancing around my brother and clapping her hands, delighting in Nicolae’s struggle to balance, I thought a moment, considering the options. Then, “Okay, children, you can play for just a little while. But we must make a start now. It is imperative you keep up, Nicolae, or I will take your new toy from you.”
“I can keep up, Anca, look!”
Nicolae broke into a staggered run towards me. As he approached he lost balance and fell, laughing, into my arms. I took his weight and losing my balance we both crashed to the ground, rolling in the debris, laughing together. Elone needed no encouragement and joined us on the forest floor, falling carelessly among the detritus.
As our motion subsided we found ourselves as one supine among the dry leaves and fallen branches, looking up at the glimpses of blue sky through the green ceiling above. For a moment, as our laughter subsided, we fell silent, enjoying our mutual condition, all staring up to the heavens, each with our own private thoughts.
“Anca, the sun has crossed over,” Elone announced suddenly, a hint of concern in her voice.
“What do you mean, Elone?” I asked, curious as to her worry. “How can the sun cross over?”
“It has,” Elone insisted. “When you were asleep, earlier, when me and Nicolae first woke up, the sun was over there.” She pointed into the sky a distance away.
I laughed quietly. “Nicolae and I, not me and Nicolae, fair one,” I chided. A smile played on my lips. It was the kind of linguistic correction Papa would always be seizing upon, yet to make the point here in a distant Polish forest where such punctiliousness had no place seemed quite without reason.
I said, “It is nothing to worry about, Elone. The sun moves every day, rising in the east, setting in the west. It is just that normally we are not conscious of its motion.” I paused, unsure whether my explanation meant anything to her inexperienced young mind, or indeed if I had myself correctly repeated the facts I had learned.
Then, as my own thoughts came together, I asked in urgent tone, “Elone, are you sure it was there before? How can you be certain?”
“Because I am, Anca,” Elone assured me confidently. She looked about her and spied the fallen tree against which we had slept the night. “When I woke up this morning I was staring straight up and the sun was right above, like it was staring down as me. Now it’s to one side, over there. See! So it must have moved!”
I received the news with mixed feelings, for it meant the day had advanced more than I first realised. That I had slept through the entire morning. But it was a reminder too that, so long as the sky was clear, we could still keep a sense of direction.
Thus emboldened we began to press our way between the maze of living trunks and decaying, fallen branches, I taking the lead, my eye now always toward the sun, with Nicolae and Elone close behind.
33.
Progress was slow, for the irregularities of the forest floor did not make for easy passage, and I was relieved that Nicolae’s speed was not too much impeded by his cumbersome attire. On the contrary the distraction of his walking with the log around his ankle kept both children amused, their constant laughter bringing a smile to my own face, and I resolved to let him continue his game so long as our pace remained unaffected.
At length we came to a trail of sorts, wending its way between the trees, and I examined it with a discerning eye. It was not a track trodden by humans, for the marks of small hoofed beasts were evident, but it was big enough to allow our passage and I resolved we follow it a while, for it would make for easier progress and might lead to a watering hole of some sort.
Elone’s keen ears duly anticipated the sound of water and minutes later we came across a tiny stream running through the forest. It was but a small gully, ferrying a sparkling flow of rainfall from the mountains, but we were ecstatic at this discovery and fell as one upon its slight banks, cupping handfuls of the cool liquid to our lips, relishing the experience as parched throats were refreshed.
Sporadic flora had sprouted along the banks of the gully and, desperate for nourishment of any sort, I selected some coarse green leaves and we ate them quietly, obtaining some satisfaction from the motions of consumption, though they were tasteless and barely tolerable.
“Beggars cannot be choosers, little one,” I chided Nicolae as he protested the offering. “Try and eat, for I know not when we will have another chance.”
“You said we would meet the forest people and have real food,” Nicolae sulked. “This isn’t real food, Anca.”
“It is all we have, Nicolae,” Elone cautioned him. “It is better than nothing.”
I smiled at Elone, for on such occasions she seemed mature beyond her years. Her blue eyes shone out from a dirt-ridden face, her once flowing blonde hair matted to her head, and I was overcome with the urge to mother her, to clean her hair, to wipe the filth from her face, and to expose her fair skin once more.
I cupped my hand and retrieved some water from the stream, applying it gently to her face. There was no protest as I ran wet hands across her cheeks smearing the mud away. At once I wished I had not, for without the grimy mask the true nature of her, of our, physical deterioration could be seen.
Her cheeks were sallow, her complexion pale and drawn. This was not the smiling face I remembered seeing on the train from Medgidia not so long ago. This was a face tormented by malnourishment and fatigue, bearing the scars of obscenities witnessed the like of which no-one, adult or child, should ever endure.
I felt tears forming ,and suddenly was overcome with emotion. Clasping Elone to me I began to cry. She looked into my eyes with a mixture of confusion and sympathy.
“Are you hurt, Anca? Where does it hurt? I will tend it for you.”
“You are kind, Elone, but the pain is inside and cannot be reached.” I let myself sob gently on her shoulder.
She put her arms around me and hugged me tight. “Never mind, Anca. Nicolae and I will look after you while you are hurting. Did I say it right this time?”
I managed a smile and nodded my head. I could see Nicolae looking on, unsure how to respond. I remembered how Papa used to chide him for crying, suggesting it was not a masculine emotion. It was one of the few things I disagreed with my father about, although I had never dared voice such reservations. I smiled at Nicolae, seeking to reassure him.
“It’s okay, little one. I will be alright in a minute. Sometimes it helps to cry.”
Nicolae looked aghast. “Girls are always crying,” he announced, thankfully indifferent to his sister’s sorrow. He hopped around in his wooden shoe. “I am going to explore some more, Anca. Elone, are you playing exploring with me?”
Elone shook her head. “I will stay with Anca while she hurts inside. Is that okay, Anca?”
I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand. “Thanks, Elone. Nicolae, do not go out of sight, do you understand? Just explore where I can see you.”
“But Anca, that’s not exploring, that’s boring,” he protested.
“You will do as you are bid, Nicolae,” I said sternly.
They were the first sharp words of reprimand I had used since we had left Mama and they had an immediate impact, for Nicolae fell silent and, with an occasional glance in my direction to confirm my gaze, elected to play well within our presence.
I felt cool water on my cheeks and realised Elone was now applying herself to the task of cleaning my own face. I could see from her filthy fingers that I bore as much grime as she and I elected to lay back and let her continue her task, not so much from vanity as from the
sheer enjoyment of her tender touch.
To my side I could hear the sound of running water as the impetuous stream traced the contours of the gully, oblivious to our presence. Above me birds sang and behind me I could hear Nicolae, refreshed by the cool water and what little of the leaves he had eaten, whooping playfully. I let my eyes slowly close, soothed by Elone’s caressing fingers and the cool liquid against my skin.
34.
When next I awoke it was dusk. I sat upright instantly, cursing beneath my breath to think I had allowed the remainder of the day to pass. I scanned the sky, but the sun had already sunk beyond the raised horizon of the forest and I knew that darkness could not be far behind.
“Nicolae? Elone?” I looked round, at first casually, then more urgently as their absence became apparent. “Nicolae! Elone!” My voice trembled as it rose, and I climbed to my feet, my legs unsteady after the long and unintended rest.
I was about to call again when I saw them, laying one against the other, fast asleep against a fallen trunk just a short way distant. I relaxed, a smile on my lips, relief to see them safe mingling with concern that they, too, were sleeping in the day.
If my first thought was that our oscitance might be the result of something we had eaten I quickly dismissed the concern, for I was awake now, with no ill-effect evident. Clearly nothing more than physical and emotional exhaustion had rendered us so tired. Even so I was annoyed that we had abused the daylight so.
I feared neither the children nor I would have the benefit of fatigue to help us sleep through the fast encroaching night. Should I wake the children now, that they might be tired later, or let them sleep on in the hope they would remain at rest until dawn? I elected to leave the young ones where they rested and use what little light remained to gather a few leaves for food and to make ourselves comfortable for the long night ahead.
Anca's Story--a novel of the Holocaust Page 9