Aharon Appelfeld: Adam and Thomas

“Our parents haven’t changed. They were and will be our parents forever,” Adam said, surprised that such a sentence had left his mouth.

After that, darkness covered the forest.

“Let’s make a nest in the tree,” Adam suggested, and a spark lit in his eyes.

“You’re joking, Adam,” said Thomas, laughing.

“Our tree is solid. It’s made of lots of thick trunks that twist about and rise up. They make a dense, strong top. We can cover the top with branches and spread a blanket over them.”

“And if our mothers come, will we see them?” Thomas asked.

“From up above you see a lot better.”

Adam climbed the tree, and Thomas handed him branches and leaves. Adam cushioned the top and called down from above: “Soon we’ll have a great nest.”

Thomas handed him the backpacks, and Adam helped him climb the tree.

“Wonderful, Adam,” Thomas showed his enthusiasm.

“Sometimes it’s a good thing to learn from the birds.” Adam spoke like a craftsman whose skill had succeeded.

“You’re right. From up here you can see better. I have a blanket in my backpack, and I bet you have one, too. We’ll spread one blanket on the branches, and we’ll cover ourselves with the other,” Thomas tried to contribute his part to the initiative.

“A great idea,” said Adam.

They lay down to see whether the nest would bear their burden without caving in.

“Have you ever slept in a treetop before?” Thomas asked.

“No, but I’ve put up a tent with my parents, and we slept in it.”

“When our mothers come to get us, they’ll be amazed at your invention, Adam.”

“It’s already dark. They’ll certainly come in the morning. I’m tired,” said Adam.

As they were closing their eyes, they saw a man running through the forest. “It’s a good thing we’re up here,” said Thomas. “There’s no way of knowing what the runner would do to you.”

“Somebody who’s running is busy running and won’t pay attention to you,” Adam surprised him with his insight.

Then silence prevailed. Here and there an owl screeched, but except for that, not a sound was heard. Adam fell asleep. Thomas couldn’t sleep. He was awake and saw his father and mother before his eyes, and the people who came and went in their house.

Thomas’s father, a tall man, nearsighted like his son, was a high school teacher. His mother taught in elementary school. During the ghetto time, before he was taken to the labor brigade, he continued to teach his students at home, after they were suspended from school. “Study preserves us,” he would reply to everyone who expressed doubt about his efforts. “Particularly at this time, we have to protect our souls,” his father would repeat.

Thomas’s mother made sure he kept at his studies, and Thomas did work hard on arithmetic exercises, he read books, wrote compositions, learned poems by heart, and in the evening his mother would examine him and say, “Excellent. You’ve made good progress.”

All during the long days in the ghetto, Thomas plunged deep in his studies. He heard and knew what was going on around him, but the arithmetic exercises and the reading filled his soul. He didn’t understand that he had to prepare himself for a new life until his mother announced she was taking him to the forest the next day. What would it be like? He couldn’t imagine.

Adam hadn’t studied during the time in the ghetto. He helped his mother, who was working in the communal kitchen. He peeled potatoes and beets, sliced cabbage, and washed pots. At noon a long line stretched next to the kitchen, and Adam helped serve the portions of bread and soup.

The morning light woke them.

“Our mothers didn’t come to get us,” said Thomas, still drowsy.

“They’ll come, but till they do, we have to fix up the nest. Did you sleep well?”

“I usually sleep deeply, but last night I couldn’t sleep. Too many pictures raced before my eyes.”

“I’m not worried. My mom is stubborn. She keeps her promises,” said Adam.

“My mom is also stubborn and keeps her promises. But why didn’t she come and get us?”

“I think we shouldn’t worry. Worry won’t do us any good.” Adam spoke in a practical tone.

“I had a strange dream,” said Thomas. “It was summer. We were swimming in the river. The sun was bright and pleasant. Then suddenly, without warning, black clouds gathered in the sky, and it started to rain hard. The light summer umbrellas were swept up by the wind and fell into the river. Dad suggested going up to the forest and looking for shelter there. We all made fun of his suggestion. ‘It’s a summer rainstorm, a passing shower, soon the sun will come out again. There’s no reason to hurry.’ Dad was insulted by our mockery, and his spirits fell. A strange dream. They say dreams come to teach us something.” Thomas spoke excitedly.

“I don’t have dreams. Only very rarely.” Adam spoke lightly.

“I dream often, but usually I can’t understand the dream. Sometimes the dream seems real, and sometimes it’s confusion.”

Adam raised his eyes with a faraway look as if he was still attached to his mother and to his schoolbooks.

Thomas was surprised by Adam’s look and said, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, Thomas. Everything is fine.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“About our nest. We can improve it. We’ll add twigs and leaves. A nest has to be well cushioned, otherwise it will cave in under our weight.”

Strange, Adam isn’t worried. The thought flashed through Thomas’s mind. Maybe he knows something that I don’t. He’s quick. He’s a child of nature. I’m a city creature.

They came down from the tree, washed their faces, drank some water, and looked around. Not a sound could be heard. The forest was covered with delicate points of light, blinking and shimmering.

“Come, let’s have a little meal next to the stream. We still have some sandwiches, vegetables, and fruit,” Adam suggested.

“Excellent idea. I’m hungry.”

Adam climbed up and helped Thomas up, and soon they had sandwiches, fruit, and vegetables. Thomas’s mood improved from minute to minute. Adam gave him a friendly look and said, “The forest is the safest place these days. In the ghetto they snatch up children and grandparents. Here they won’t catch us. We’ll improve our running and tree climbing, and we’ll leap like squirrels.”

“Maybe because I’m nearsighted, and maybe for other reasons, I’m not quick. My running isn’t graceful.” Thomas lost his self-confidence.

“You mustn’t lose hope, Thomas. If you keep practicing, you’ll get better at it.”