Aharon Appelfeld - Adam and Thomas

“What’s your name, Grandfather?”

“My name is Sergei.”

They cleared out and climbed the tree. Miro couldn’t repress his joy. He hopped from foot to foot, hoping to get a piece of cake. It was a delicious honey cake, and they finished it immediately. The water they sipped from the thermos bottle was tastier than ever.

From then on the rain didn’t stop. It was accompanied by thunder and lightning, as well as hail, which struck the cloak very hard. Without Miro and his body heat, they would have been frozen.

“Who’s that old man we met, Sergei?” Adam asked. “Do you mean to say he was sent to us?” asked Thomas.

“I don’t know whether he was sent to us. I’m glad he appeared.”

“My dad says, ‘A person should do what he must do.’ If only I knew exactly what I’m supposed to do,” said Thomas.

“We do what we can,” said Adam.

“I’m not reading the books I brought with me, and I’m not solving arithmetic problems. I hardly even write in my journal.”

“Don’t worry, Thomas. When the war is over, you’ll catch up on everything.”

“It’s a shame to waste time,” said Thomas.

“But you saw a lot. You were hungry a lot. You were afraid and you overcame your fear. That’s also learning, isn’t it?”

The rain fell without stopping, and they didn’t climb down from the tree. They lay down tensely. Adam talked to Miro and asked him how he was feeling. Miro murmured and whined in little yips. From time to time he would jump down from the tree and look around in the forest.

Miro was a brave guard. Once, back home, he gripped a thief ’s arm and wouldn’t let go. The thief was desperate and shouted, “Help!” If it hadn’t been for Adam’s father, who released the thief ’s arm from Miro’s teeth, he might not have survived. After he was released, the thief didn’t move, as though he were hypnotized. “Go away and don’t come back,” Adam’s father scolded him, and then he did pick up his feet and run away.

During a letup, they climbed down to see whether Mina had left them anything. To their surprise they found a packet wrapped in canvas near the tree where they had met the peasant.

They quickly carried it up to the nest, and to their astonishment they found a big piece of corn pie, a hunk of cheese, and a packet of pickled cucumbers.

“Is everything that happens to us coincidental?” Adam wondered.

“Do you have a better word than that?” Thomas answered.

“We met marvelous people who saved us. Is that all a coincidence?”

“Why say they were sent to us? Why not say they’re doing it of their own free will?”

“I don’t know what to say to you,” said Adam.

They had a meal and shared it with Miro. Everything was delicious, especially the pickles. The canvas wasn’t big, but it covered them.

“We haven’t seen Mina for a while,” said Thomas.

“Peasants don’t go out to the fields or pastures in the rain. But sometimes it seems to me that they’re hurting her. I hope I’m wrong,” said Adam.

“Where did you get that impression?”

“It’s hard to explain,” said Adam.

That day Thomas wrote in his journal:

Dear Mother and Father,

Adam and I are still hiding out in the forest. The rain doesn’t stop, but don’t worry. We’re curled up in our nest. We have a sheepskin cloak, the blankets we brought from home, and a piece of canvas to shield us. I think about you all the time, I see you in dreams, and when I’m awake, and I hope you’re well. I have a feeling that the war is ending, and we’ll come home. My friend Adam is a perfect friend. We live from day to day and wonders keep astonishing us. An old peasant we met by chance left us a whole corn pie. Adam says we must say blessings. Adam’s a nature boy, but at the same time he has a sense of the marvelous. I’ve learned a lot from him. Now I also know how to run in a crouch and climb trees. Sometimes it seems to me that my outward appearance has changed a lot since we parted. I hope that I’ve stayed the same Thomas you used to know. You’re in my thoughts every day. I’m waiting with yearning for the end of the war and for the moment I can come down from the tree, straight to you.

Adam remembered the apple tree, and they ran to it. The apples had turned red, and some of them had fallen to the earth. They picked apples and gathered them in the canvas. Miro didn’t leave their side. From time to time he raised his head, turned it, and pointed his nose.

Between rainstorms they went down to Mina’s tree. This time they found a few pieces of bread and a piece of butter wrapped in a rag.

The last time they saw Mina, her right hand had been bandaged in a kerchief. She milked the cow quickly, so it didn’t seem like a serious injury to them. But Adam kept repeating, “The peasant is not only angry at her. He beats her.”

“How do you know?”

“From the expression on her lips. The next time we meet her we should ask her to join us,” said Adam.

“Let’s hope she won’t be afraid to run away,” said Thomas.

“Mina’s a brave girl. Look at her hands as she milks.”

The next day they found Mina milking. Adam directed his voice at her and called out, “If things are hard for you, and if the peasant is hurting you, come to us. We have a nest in a tall tree, and, if necessary, we can flee into the heart of the forest. We don’t have a lot to eat, but whatever comes our way is enough to live on. If you want to join us, we’d be very happy.”

Mina heard, but her face didn’t move. When she finished milking, she took the pail and the stool and hurried away.

When Mina went away, she left behind a trail of secrecy. She was so short and so small, it was a wonder she could carry the heavy pail. “She’s a spirit, not a body,” said Adam.

“Where did you get that feeling, Adam?” asked Thomas.

“The pail is as big as half her body. Who’s carrying the pail, if not the spirit that’s in her?”

“For years in school we never realized she was a being with spiritual strength.”

“Our eyes deceive us,” said Adam, and they both laughed.

After that dark days came. Cold filled the forest, and rain mixed with hail pounded the canvas.

Every time thunder and lightning exploded above them, Miro pricked up his ears.

“Is the war drawing to a close?” Adam asked Miro and looked at his face.

Miro couldn’t stay still. Every few minutes he stuck his head out of the canvas and let out little barks.

Snow was not long in coming. First it was mixed with rain, but from day to day it thickened and grew whiter. Mina continued to leave packages next to her tree. Once it was a packet of dry fruit. The good peasant left them a jug of buttermilk.

“What would we have done without our angels?” said Adam.

It snowed harder, and the cold grew fiercer. Adam and Thomas wore the shirts, the sweaters, and the coats that they had, but the cold wind penetrated their clothing.

Adam kept asking Miro if he sensed that the Red Army was advancing. Miro raised his head, pricked up his ears, and muttered dissatisfied little barks. He was complaining about the weather, which made it hard for him to sense things.