I couldn’t find a hiding place for your grandparents. I can’t leave your grandparents on their own. Everyone says the war is nearly over. I pray that until then God will preserve you. You’re a smart boy, and I count on your ability to make your way. Forgive your mother who loves you very much.
Adam read the letter again and again, and tears filled his eyes.
“What did your mother write to you?” Thomas approached Adam.
“Sorry, Thomas. It’s hard for me to talk now,” said Adam and pressed Miro against his body.
Chapter 19
The next day Adam milked the cow and filled the thermos bottle. They sat near the brook, and Miro joined in the meal. Miro didn’t leave Adam’s side. He brought little barks up from inside himself. They were familiar, but Adam couldn’t decipher them. Adam knelt down and asked again, “What happened to Mom and my grandparents? When did they leave the house?”
Miro apparently knew a lot, too much to communicate what he knew to Adam with little barks. A day and a half had passed since his arrival, but he still hadn’t calmed down.
Miro wasn’t a big or purebred dog. He was black with white patches. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but he was solidly built. His jumps were powerful, and he ran with long strides. He liked to be petted, but he didn’t beg to be pampered, and he didn’t annoy you by barking for no reason. Adam’s father called him a “serious dog.”
Adam kept rereading the letter that Miro had brought him. He felt the pain between the few sentences that his mother had written to him. His father was carrying iron tracks on his shoulder and collapsing under the weight of the burden. His mom and his grandparents were somewhere in Poland. Only a short time ago we were all together, and now everyone is somewhere else.
Thomas also thought about his father, who had been taken for forced labor, and about his mother, who was watching over the grandparents.
Suddenly Thomas turned to Adam and asked, “Is God watching over us?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Our situation worries me,” said Thomas.
“My grandfathers are close to God. They pray to him and read holy books.”
“Do you feel God?” Thomas surprised him.
“When I’m with my grandparents, I feel him.”
“And you yourself, do you feel close to God?”
“Sometimes it seems like he is hovering above me,” said Adam, and wonder filled his face.
Adam’s answers didn’t bring Thomas close to God. But Thomas felt that Adam wasn’t making things up. He wasn’t exaggerating. He was trying to convey his feelings.
“Adam, thanks for sharing your feelings with me.”
“It’s hard for me to talk about secret things. I don’t have the right words,” said Adam.
“I understand,” said Thomas.
Mina hadn’t forgotten them. Once again she left them a few pieces of corn pie and some cheese. She wrapped the package in newspaper and left it near the tree.
“If only it was possible to thank her,” said Thomas.
“Nobody must see us with her. She’s living a hidden life now,” said Adam in a whisper.
“You’re right,” said Thomas, impressed by Adam’s way of thinking.
That day Thomas managed to write in his diary:
Yesterday in a miraculous way Miro, Adam’s dog, came to us. His surprising arrival strengthens my faith that the war is nearly over, and after it we’ll meet. Miro is a wonderful creature. He wandered in the forest for many days before he found Adam. Adam found a letter from his mother in Miro’s collar. His mother told him that she hadn’t been able to find a hiding place for his grandparents, so all of them would go to the railroad station. Did you and my grandparents take the same path?
Until a short time ago forest fruit nourished us, but it’s disappearing. Luckily for us we found a girl from our class, Mina, who’s hiding with a peasant. She brings us bread or corn pie and cheese from time to time, and she’s saving us from hunger.
Adam keeps saying: God sent Mina to us. It’s hard for me to say a sentence like that. Adam comes from a religious family. Faith in God was planted in him. I can’t forget what Dad always said, Human beings—only the good of human beings—is our concern. We don’t deal in conjectures.
To tell the truth, Adam and I don’t argue. We’re busy from morning to night with strengthening the nest and getting food. It isn’t easy to stay alive in the forest. Adam is a good friend and an optimistic boy. If it weren’t for him, I doubt I would have lasted.
Chapter 20
Meanwhile it started to rain, heavy rain that forced them to go up into the nest and cover themselves with the shepherd’s cloak. Miro was content. He clung to Adam, and for the first time he barked happily.
“It’s a good thing we have the cloak to shield us.
Miro will also protect us,” said Adam.
The rain lasted all day and all night. The first time it stopped, they climbed down to see whether the cow and the calf were grazing in the field. They weren’t there, but a small package, wrapped in a rag, was laying under the tree. There were a couple of slices of corn pie in it, a piece of cheese, and dried fruit.
Adam called out enthusiastically, “God sent us Mina.”
“Adam, I’d like to believe in God, too.”
“You have to be patient. Everyone comes to him in their own way.”
“Dad says that faith in God has passed from the world,” said Thomas.
“Thomas, your father is a man of integrity. He is devoted to his students heart and soul. He serves God in his own way.”
“I guess I’ll have to find my own way, too,” said Thomas.
They climbed up to the nest and ate. Since Miro came, Thomas’s mood changed. He no longer sank into sudden sadness. Miro seemed to feel affection for Thomas and let him pet him.
But the nights weren’t peaceful. From time to time they heard the footsteps of someone running away, and sometimes they heard shots. From the distance heavy, dull noises could be heard, sounding like a mixture of lightning and thunder.
While they listened to the rain and the sound of explosions above them, once again they heard a man groaning in pain.
“Let’s go down and see what happened,” said Adam, immediately taking iodine and bandages from his backpack. Thomas took the thermos bottle with him and the remains of the corn pie.
Not far from the nest a man lay, tormented by pain. Adam recognized him right away: the music teacher.
“What happened, Mr. Braverman?” Adam leaned over him.
“Who are you?” he was roused from his pain.
“We’re Adam and Thomas, your students.”
“Sorry,” he said, and his head sank to the ground.
“Are you wounded?” Adam whispered.
“In the leg.”
“We have iodine and a bandage.”
Adam rolled up his pant leg. He could see the blood and the wound despite the darkness.
“A bullet hit me, but it seems to have missed the bone.”
After they washed the wounded area and put iodine on it, Mr. Braverman opened his eyes and said, “Thank you, boys.” Miro kept walking around them, complaining because they weren’t including him in the rescue.
When the first lights filtered into the forest, Mr. Braverman raised himself on his arms and said, “Thank you, boys, for your fine and devoted help. Now it’s daytime, and you have to return to your hiding place.”
“Please drink some water and have a bit of corn pie,” Adam said.
The teacher sipped some water and tasted the corn pie. Then he said, “Dear children, go back to where you were. We’ll meet after the war.”
“Is the war ending?” Thomas asked with a trembling voice.
“The German army is in retreat, and the Russian army is approaching. But for the Jews
, there’s no respite. They pursue every Jew who runs away. Where’s your hiding place?”
“In the treetop.”
“You’re smart children. Don’t go out in daylight.”
“Where are you going, Mr. Braverman?”
“I’m going to look for my wife and children. If you run into them, tell them you saw me. I’ll hide under a bush now, and at night I’ll go on my way.”
“If you meet our mothers, tell them we’re in a safe place,” Thomas said, overcoming his shyness.
“Of course. Hurry to your hiding place. You mustn’t be out in daylight.”
Everybody liked Mr. Braverman. He loved music, and he loved children. Everybody felt comfortable with him. He never failed a student. If somebody didn’t have a good ear, he would say, “But your eyesight is probably better than ours. Nature compensates. Sometimes nature is more generous than people.”
Mr. Braverman was a communist. He argued that property should be distributed justly. It was wrong for the rich to have everything, while the poor didn’t have a crust of bread. He suffered because of his opinions. The police used to come to the school and arrest him from time to time, and he would spend a few months in prison. After he signed a statement saying he wouldn’t spread his ideas anymore, they allowed him to teach music again. He would be careful not to express his opinions, but sometimes a hint would slip out—and they would immediately suspend him from the school.
“I like Mr. Braverman. I don’t have a good ear, and my eyesight is poor. Mr. Braverman consoled me by saying, ‘But you think well. Don’t worry. Everyone has his own area.’ A marvelous man,” said Thomas, near tears.
Chapter 21
The rain didn’t stop, and shooting sliced into the night and shook the nest. As soon as the rain let up, they went down to see whether the cow and calf were grazing in the meadow. They weren’t. But Mina had left two slices of bread and some cheese. This time they were wrapped in cardboard.
They climbed back into the nest, had their meal, and were happy. Miro was also excited and hopped from Adam’s feet to Thomas’s.
“Thomas, would you please write a little letter to Mina?”
“What should I write?” Thomas asked. “I can’t write ‘Dear Mina.’ No one may know that she has friends. I’ll simply write: ‘Thanks from A. and T.’”
“Maybe you should write, ‘Blessings and thanks from A. and T.,’” said Adam.
“I’ve never used the word ‘blessings,’” said Thomas.
“It’s a beautiful word,” said Adam.
“But not understandable. I’m not used to writing words that I don’t understand. I propose writing, ‘Thanks with all our hearts, from A. and T.’”
“Why are you so precise, Thomas?”
“What can I do? That’s the way I was raised.”
The nights were cold and not quiet. Sometimes it seemed to them that the teacher, Mr. Braverman, was still lying on the grass and groaning with pain. Every once in a while the steps of a man fleeing were heard as he looked for cover in the forest.
How can we help people? Adam asked himself. We have to help people.
Suddenly before his eyes he saw his mother, working in the communal kitchen in the ghetto, serving soup to thin, weak people. When they asked whether there was another crust of bread, she would narrow her shoulders and say, “I have none. Not a crumb is left.” At night she would return from the communal kitchen exhausted and fall onto her bed. Thomas’s parents believed in studying. They taught the Jewish children who had been suspended from school and made sure they did their homework. They said, “They can starve us, but they can’t take our humanity away from us.”
Thomas’s father not only taught the Jewish children who had been suspended from school. He also organized courses in history, literature, and even a class in drawing for adults. From time to time he raised his voice and said, “Barbarity won’t deter us.” Not everyone agreed with him. Some people made fun of him and called him strange names, but that didn’t stop him. Day and night he organized and taught, until he was seized for forced labor.
Chapter 22
Afterward the nights were quiet, and for a while it seemed there were no more fugitives. The bread and cheese nourished them and Miro. Between one rainstorm and another they would come down from the nest and sneak in to milk the cow.
Adam said, “God only knows how much Mina has been risking for our sake.”
Thomas answered, “I’ve also been thinking about that.”
“Are we worthy of her risk?” asked Adam.
“We’ll do our best to be worthy,” said Thomas with emotion.
“We underestimated her when she was with us in school,” said Adam.
“The conclusion: You mustn’t look down on people. Not on anyone,” said Thomas.
“And you have to repeat the words of Brother Peter, the religion teacher: ‘Every man bears a message in his heart,’” said Adam.
Again at night they heard the stumbling steps of someone fleeing and the running of his pursuers. From the treetop they saw the struggle between the weak and the strong, and their hearts were full of dread.
Adam said, “We can’t stand idly by. We have to help the fugitives.”
Thomas didn’t ignore Adam’s words. When he saw a man fleeing, carrying a baby in his arms, he stuck his head out of the nest and called out loudly, “Don’t be afraid, and don’t lose hope. The Red Army is on its way to us. In a little while, a day or two.”
The escaping man didn’t stop to see who was encouraging him but kept on running, out of breath, but the armed pursuers raised their heads. They heard Thomas’s shouts and shot at the nest.
“We have to get out of here,” said Adam.
“Sorry,” said Thomas. “I couldn’t control myself.”
“No matter. A word of encouragement is sometimes like a bandage.”
“Thanks,” said Thomas.
Thethought flashed through Adam’s mind: Thomas minds his manners, even when he is tense. In the last darkness, they folded their blankets and the sheepskin coat, closed their backpacks, climbed down from the tree, and blazed a trail into the thick forest. In an hour they saw a tree with a round top. They immediately gathered twigs and branches, Adam climbed up, and Thomas handed him what they had collected. Now they were deep in the forest, far from the paths, and Thomas wondered whether they had gotten too far from the cow and calf and from the tree where Mina placed the food.
Adam said, “I know the forest and everything in it.”
Chapter 23
While they were curling up in the new nest, the rain started again. First slowly, then heavily. The sheepskin coat, which had absorbed a lot of rain, was heavy and cold now. If it hadn’t been for Miro, their situation would have been more serious. Miro not only gave off heat, but also happiness.
“I noticed that Miro is different from us but still similar to us,” said Thomas.
“I just love Miro the way he is,” said Adam.
Thomas was surprised once more by Adam’s direct way of thinking. He didn’t complain, didn’t argue, but just acted. There was a lot to be learned from him.
Meanwhile the thunder in the distance got louder. It was hard to know whether it was the thunder of a storm or the booming of cannons. The rain didn’t let up. A fugitive collapsed nearby, and his groaning rose to the treetop. Adam and Thomas took some iodine and bandages, climbed down from the tree, and approached the wounded man.
When he saw the boys, he raised his head and cried out, “Who are you? How did you get here?”
“My name is Adam, and my friend’s name is Thomas. We’ve been hiding out in the forest.”
“I’m wounded, dear children. Thank you for your willingness to help me.”
“If we see the wound, we can bandage it. We have iodine, too,” Adam said softly.
“Good angels.
I can’t believe my eyes.”
“We also have a thermos bottle with clean water. We can wash the wound. Then we’ll disinfect it with iodine.”
Without hesitation they rolled up his sleeve and immediately saw the wound. Adam wiped off the blood and washed the wound. Thomas spread iodine on it. The stinging was severe, and the man bit his lips in pain.
They sat around him, together with Miro.
“Who are you?” the man asked again.
Adam stated their names.
“I know your parents, Adam. I own a furniture store, and I buy your father’s handiwork. Your father is a wonderful craftsman.”
“Did you see our mothers, perhaps?” Thomas asked.
“The commotion in the railroad station was huge. It was the last transport. My parents urged me to flee, and I left them to their fate. I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Was that long ago?”
“Quite a few days have already passed. Since then they’ve been running after me. Children, go back to your hiding place. I’ll go look for somewhere to hide. You can already hear the booming of cannons in the distance. The Red Army is approaching. Hold on!”
Still they managed to persuade him to eat some corn pie and drink some water. Finally they left him and went away.
Thomas didn’t stop dreaming. “In my dream I saw Dad coming back from the war. I said to him right away, ‘Dad, forgive me for not reading the books I took with me, and I didn’t solve the arithmetic problems.’ Dad looked at me and said, ‘Don’t be sorry. Right after the war, studies will resume, and we’ll do everything we can to make up for what you missed.’ Strange, I said to myself. Dad is still concerned with my studies, even though he got thin and can barely stand up. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said again. ‘It wasn’t your fault, son.’ He uttered those words and disappeared. A strange dream, right, Adam?”
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