Very soon it was too dark to manoeuvre safely and I presented myself at the side of my still slumbering companions and lay against them, to share our bodily warmth beneath our makeshift blanket as the evening air cooled.
Memories of the previous night’s fearful imagery crowded my mind and I consoled myself with the prospect that, after so much rest, we would be fortified and able to take full advantage of the morrow’s light to find the hamlet we sought amid the forest’s depths. I shut my eyes against the forest’s darkness and tried to dwell on pleasant thoughts.
35.
I sat up with a start, to the piercing howl of a distant wolf, at once abruptly upright, unsure if I had fallen asleep and dreamt the sound or not.
A second, lingering howl ensued and I knew it was no dream.
I looked around me, trying to pierce the night with timid eyes, but only the sooty depths of the forest returned my gaze. Above me the sky was just visible, stars sparkling bright against what little I could see of the dark empyrean. There was no moon, or if there was the forest would not permit the lunar rays to penetrate its murky depths.
Another wolf howled, closer this time.
Much closer.
A shiver of fear ran down my spine and I instinctively reached out to comfort the children. As I did so a tiny hand clasped mine and Elone’s voice said quietly, “Anca, I am scared.”
I clasped her to my chest, wanting to reassure her, but my words lacked conviction. “There is nothing to be afraid of, Elone. It is just the creatures of the forest, going about their business. They will not bother us.”
Elone clutched my fingers with her hand. “Do you promise, Anca?”
“I promise, Elone.”
I was jealous now of the young child before me, for my assurances seemed quite enough to put her at ease, and even as I held her she drifted off to sleep again.
But for my part, sleep was no longer an option, fear my governing emotion and I was suddenly, acutely, aware of every sound the forest made.
In truth, of course, the background noise had always been there, but somehow my mind had until then been indifferent to it. Now every sound resounded, echoed, leapt out from the dark to declare its presence, and my whole body shook with fear.
I reached out to touch Elone and Nicolae, to reassure myself they had not been carried away by some wild beast of the night. Of course they had not and they slept on, oblivious to my trauma. But I could take no comfort from their indifference, for fear had taken hold of my mind, slowly prising my imagination from my control.
There were sounds all around me and I knew, I just knew, these were not mere products of an overactive mind, but the precursor of some real, some palpable evil that would shortly reveal itself.
The darkness was unrelenting and nothing could be seen, but I could hear the movement now, as this carnivorous monster of the forest approached, encircling us. It was coming closer, I was sure. I could hear the coarse, laboured breathing and I held my own breath, as if hoping it might not realise we were there.
A wolf? A bear? Some other hungry carnivore anxious to sate its appetite on human flesh? It was all I could do not to up and run, but I knew flight was impossible, even had I not the burden of my two young charges, miraculously still sleeping, oblivious to what might prove their last moments on this earth.
Suddenly it touched my foot and my body froze, fear in total control, even my vocal chords paralysed.
Yet somehow my sight was enhanced by my terror, and suddenly I could make out the form of the wild beast about to devour my leg. For a second all I could do was stare, open-mouthed.
Then, as realization dawned, my body began to shake, not this time with fear but with mirth, for the beast of the night that had caused me such dire anguish was nothing more than a harmless porcupine, on its way to the stream to slate its thirst.
As my laughter startled the poor creature it shuffled off into the night, never to be seen again, and I laughed all the more, until my sides ached and tears ran down my face. The act of laughter served to purge my mind of the fear that had gripped me and I knew, as my amusement subsided, that I would have a restful night hereafter. Even the intermittent howling of the distant wolves could not break my spirit now and I determined not to open my eyes again until the new dawn.
36.
But I was not to see the dawn. I awoke to the urgent tugging of tiny hands at my face and in the darkness I could hear Nicolae’s frightened voice. In an instant I was wide awake and clutching my little brother to my breast, suspecting he had awoken from a bad dream. But even as I offered comforting words the reason for his fear became apparent and I froze, sheer terror preventing further response.
The eyes that peered at me through the darkness were glowing, menacing eyes the like of which I had never seen before. The blood-curdling growl rolled from furled lips, exposing teeth that glinted even in the faint star-light. Yet all I could do was stare back, mesmerized by this dread spectre.
If I had never seen a real live wolf before, the fairy-tales of my childhood were replete with their menacing imagery and I needed no lesson in natural history to know our very lives now hung in the balance.
The beast patrolled before us, walking back and forth just metres distant, fulvous eyes never leaving us for a second, and I knew it was selecting which of us it would choose for its meal.
If fear paralysed my body my brain was working actively and I determined that if one of us must fall prey to the creature that the others might survive, then such was the burden I must assume.
Somehow I found strength to draw Nicolae to my side, edging his tiny form behind my own. Remembering Elone, I reached out blindly with my hands, my eyes never leaving those of the creature before us, until I found her arm and gently, slowly, began to bring her towards me. She stirred at my touch and murmured unheard words. I hushed her quietly, urging her to be calm and still, fearing she would panic and incite the wild beast to bring forward its inevitable assault.
Fear concentrated my senses and somehow my eyes were able to discern Elone’s form in the darkness. I saw her turn to face the animal before us and as she did so her own eyes widened, her mouth opening to scream. It was an instant response for me to clasp my hand across her mouth to stifle the cry, drawing her terrified, shaking body to my own, forcing her behind me, where she clutched at Nicolae.
I could feel their defenceless young bodies tremor against my own and knew their fate rest solely on my ability to defend them.
I whispered, “Do not scream, children. Do not do anything. Just stay perfectly still.”
Whether through fear or understanding they kept both still and quiet.
I pushed my hands behind me, offering the comfort of my touch, and felt them reciprocate. Before me the growling beast stopped in its tracks and turned to face us head on. I held my breath and was aware the children had done the same.
Elone began murmuring and I wanted to hush her, but hardly dared speak myself, for fear of inciting the beast further. I found the words, whispered from the side of my mouth.
“Elone, be silent. You will anger him.”
But even as I spoke it dawned on me that Elone was speaking in Hebrew, and I realised from the ritual chant that she was at prayer. I found solace, somehow, that this small child, just nine years old, could be so composed in the face of danger and for an instant wished I too had some conviction in a higher being on whom to call, but the thought was quickly dismissed as the beast before us raised its head and let out a blood-curdling howl that clave the dark night like a sharpened axe.
I could feel the arms of the two children clutching at my waist, could hear their panicked breathing as they fought to hold back their screams, and I knew I must act.
I tried to visualize the ground on which we lay, hoping to recall some means of evading the canine predator that even now was preparing for its final assault. The trees, I knew, were tall, but lacking lower branches that might enable our escape upwards. Yet to contemplate out-running th
is creature of the night, even without the handicap of the forest’s cloak, seemed futile.
As the wolf moved closer, looming minatorial from the darkness until I could smell its foetid breath and see the saliva drip from snarling fangs, I whispered to the children, “Prepare to run, little ones. I will count to three and then you must run. Run as fast as you can, both of you. Do not wait for me. I will try and distract the beast while you flee. I will catch you up later, do you understand? Nicolae? Elone? Please say you understand.”
“We understand,” Elone said. She clutched at my arm. “I will care for Nicolae, Anca. God will care for you.”
I felt tears well in my eyes at her words, for she must have realised the sacrifice I intended, but there was no time for sentimentality. I knew that, if the two children were to have any chance at all of survival then I must act now.
I clutched at a fallen branch and whispered to the children, “I love you, Nicolae. You too, Elone.” Then, “On the count of three. As fast as you possibly can. One. Two. Three! Go, Nicolae! Go, Elone!”
I jumped up, brandishing the fallen branch in my hands and took a step towards the creature, screaming “Come on, you foul beast, take me! Run, children, run!” I could hear their panicking steps as they made off into the darkness, but dared not turn to confirm their absence, nor even to ascertain their direction. There was anyway little point, for I knew I would not see them again.
My only thought was to hold this hideous creature at bay long enough that they might make their escape. The branch I held was of no consequence, for it could not possibly stave off the imminent attack, only offering the children precious seconds to get away.
I saw the wolf turn in the direction of the children, attracted by their commotion and, taking a deep breath, hurled myself forward at the beast, determined to have its undivided attention.
My bravado seemed to startle the creature, for it reared away, evidently unused to counter-assault, but the respite was short-lived. Seconds later the creature turned on me, moving closer, now undaunted by my feeble lunges with the branch.
The fear that had previously paralysed my movement now provided the adrenalin I needed to turn and run and I did so, pausing only to be sure I was heading away from the children.
As I left the clearing the starlight vanished and with it all semblance of visibility, but I ran on regardless, conscious only of the loping movements of the wolf behind me. I knew I could not possibly outrun the creature and guessed the beast was pacing me, waiting until I stumbled or fell exhausted to the floor before moving in for its final, ferocious attack.
I ploughed on through the darkness, somehow maintaining my balance, treading a precarious path through the undergrowth until I felt my breathing labour and knew I could not continue much further. I took comfort that the children must be far distant by now and found the energy to make a final spurt forward, reasoning that every step I managed would be a step towards their survival.
Then suddenly I was falling, as my feet became entangled in the debris of the forest floor. I hit the ground hard, knocking the air from my lungs, and turned to see the wolf lunging towards me. For what seemed like an eternity it hung in the air above me and I could see its every hideous feature in pornographic detail.
Then it was on me, my arms thrashing wildly in a feeble attempt to hold back its weight. Fulvous eyes shone like lanterns before me and I felt saliva splash across my face, blinding me. Puissant claws tore at my body and I screamed with pain.
The last thing I remember was the wolf’s mephitic breath as the razor-sharp teeth pierced my skin.
37.
Faint chimes sounded playfully across my senses and I lay still, taking pleasure from the refrain. Then, as memory activated and I recalled my last moments of consciousness, I sat up with a start, scorning the sharp pain that seared through my chest, staring about me into the blackness.
I could see nothing and for a few seconds presumed it must still be the dark night of the forest, but when I looked up to the sky not even a star shone.
The tinkle of bells chimed again, as if hanging in the wind, and I turned in the direction of the sound. I was aware of furnishing beneath me, this confirmed as investigating fingers reached down to touch a feather mattress. It was so soft, so gentle, after recent discomforts, that I was quite tempted to lay back to enjoy this sybaritic pleasure.
But immediately I thought of Nicolae and Elone I was upright again, calling their names, looking about me in bewilderment, trying desperately to bring a semblance of order to a confused mind.
There was no answer to my cry, only the faint chimes responding to my call. I reached down again to the mattress, to confirm its existence, that it was not a figment of my overwrought imagination.
It was not.
I looked about me again. The air was redolent with vernal flowers but still the darkness was pervasive. I called out the children’s names once more.
No answer.
Suddenly there was a noise before me, as if a door opening. I followed the direction of the sound but saw nothing. A voice, a woman’s voice, spoke to me in a tongue I did not recognize, though the tone was soft, gentle. Still I saw nothing. The thought struck me suddenly, that I was blind, and I reached instinctively to my eyes, probing fingers denied contact by a cloth restraint.
As I began in panic to tug at the material, warm hands gently gripped my wrists, drawing them down to my side. Demulcent tones gave meaning to a language otherwise unfamiliar and I offered no resistance. I demanded, “Please, who are you? Where are Nicolae and Elone? Are they safe?” My questions gushed out, each one begun without pause for an answer to the previous, but all I received in reply were soothing words evidently urging me to rest.
I importuned my benefactress indifferently. “Nicolae, my brother? And Elone? Are they safe?”
It was obvious I was not understood, but still I persisted in my enquiry, for the welfare of the children was my only concern just now. If obvious enough I had by some miracle survived the wolf’s attack in the forest, the fate of my brother and charge remained a mystery, and one I could not conceive of rest before resolving.
I tried to sit up again, but the gentle hands were guiding me back, laying me against the feather mattress. I felt a receptacle at my lips and realised I was being offered water. I gulped down a few mouthfuls, thankful for the refreshment, then shook my head to indicate I could take no more. As the clay bowl was moved away I asked again, “Nicolae? Elone? I must know.”
The reply made no more sense to me than my questions to her and I realised my benefactress was stepping away. I wanted her to stay, to explain, to give me hope, but knew words were pointless just now. I heard the door open and close and I was alone again, only the aeolian chimes breaking the silence.
I probed the bandage across my eyes with cautious fingers, then lay back, pondering my plight. Logic dictated I must be in the tiny hamlet in the forest that we had identified from afar some days prior. That much seemed reasonable, for only those very inhabitants would surely have been on hand to find me.
Working things through my mind it was sensible too to suppose the language my benefactress spoke was Polish, though I could not be sure, for I had no prior claim to familiarity with its tones.
Extrapolating further, I reasoned she or they must have found me after the wolf had left me for dead, bringing me back to their home and tending my wounds.
My wounds.
I became conscious of the pain in my chest once more and reached a hand to feel the damage. My chest too was heavily bandaged and I quickly traced my body with my fingers to ascertain what other lesions I had received, but remarkably I appeared to have incurred no further injury.
I took further solace on finding Raisa’s amulet still safe about my neck.
Conscious now of a curious fragrance emanating from the liniment around my torso I guessed I had been tended with some bucolic poultice and this in turn gave me reassurance that I, at least, was in safe hands.
&
nbsp; But with that thought my attention turned once more to the plight of my brother Nicolae and the dear child Elone.
Had my survival been at their cost?
Had the wolf left me to track them down instead?
Had they perhaps succumbed to another member of the foul beast’s pack?
My thoughts were myriad and sombre, fearing the worst. Even had they escaped the canine predators that night, what chance two children so young to fend for themselves in the forest? If they were indeed alive still, how much longer could they maintain such a disposition? Thus burdened with guilt I had no choice but to take immediate action.
I swung my legs across from the mattress to find the floor below and hesitantly tried to stand. My body was weak, but I managed to hold myself steady. I could hear the wind chimes tinkle to my left and knew therefore that the doorway was to my fore. But without sight I hesitated to take a step, fearful that I might stumble at some obstacle and incur further injury.
Even as I contemplated my options the door opened and an angry voice assailed my ears. Hands were upon me in seconds, guiding me gently but firmly back to my mattress. My benefactress spoke to me at length, though she must surely have known I could not understand her words, using the pressure of her hands to indicate I must stay put, and I resigned myself to the torture of uncertainty.
Suddenly my heart leapt as the unmistakeable shrill of Nicolae’s voice called my name and seconds later I felt his body lunge against mine, tiny arms wrapping themselves tight around my neck, accompanied by a gabble of chatter so rapid I could make no sense of it.
Overcome with relief to find my little brother safe I could barely manage a composed response myself and for perhaps several minutes I managed only a mixture of laughter and tears as I struggled to tolerate the pain in my chest, to enjoy my sibling’s body against mine.
Anca's Story--a novel of the Holocaust Page 10