Aharon Appelfeld - Adam and Thomas

“Strange.”

“What’s so strange?”

“I guess I’ll never know how to talk to a dog.”

“Don’t worry, Thomas. The forest will teach you.”

When he heard Adam’s words, Thomas smiled and was about to say, Can you learn everything? Some people learn arithmetic easily, and some people learn how to draw easily. Not everyone knows how to learn everything. But for some reason he stopped himself and didn’t say it.

Light filled the forest. From a distance, mooing, the neighing of horses, and barking could be heard. The sounds reminded Adam of the long excursions he had made with his parents in the Carpathian Mountains, the low wooden houses, the green meadows spotted with cows, sheep, and horses. At noon they used to enter a roadside tavern, order a corn pudding filled with cherries. For dessert — a cup of ice cream.

Thomas dreamed a strange dream that night. He and his mother were standing at the door of their house. Suddenly his father appeared from a side entrance, and he was short and skinny. His back was bent. It was hard to recognize him.

“What happened?” his mother called out in surprise.

When he heard her voice, his father’s face beamed, and he said, “They made us work and starved us from morning to night, but they didn’t break our spirits. We studied whenever we could. I taught a class in history, and my friend Herman taught one in literature. We didn’t have books, but our memories didn’t betray us.”

While he was talking, he collapsed and passed out. Thomas and his mother ran over to him, knelt down, and poured water on his face.

That same morning, a squirrel came to visit them. Adam knelt and asked, “How are you, squirrel?” The squirrel hopped and raised its body upright. Its chatter said, You’re new in the forest, aren’t you?

Adam offered it pieces of the sandwich he was eating. The squirrel was cautious, sniffed, tasted, hopped away, and kept nibbling at the bread.

After finishing the crumbs, the squirrel moved away, bowed once to the right and once to the left, and returned to its tree.

“I noticed,” said Thomas, “that some of the squirrel’s movements are like people’s. Am I mistaken?”

“You’re not mistaken. We have more in common with animals than we have differences,” said Adam, pleased with his own words.

“Anyway, you talked to the squirrel the way one person talks to his fellow,” said Thomas.

Adam chuckled. “I’ve never heard a child say ‘the way one person talks to his fellow.’”

“My parents say ‘the way one person talks to his fellow.’ Is that incorrect?” Thomas asked.

They ate breakfast and for dessert they ate some of the cherries they had set aside for a long day full of sun.

“Isn’t it strange that we’re living in the forest without parents and without friends? What harm did we do? I have the feeling that it’s a punishment. It’s not clear to me who’s punishing us, or for what.” Thomas spoke quickly, without stopping between the words.

“We’re Jews,” said Adam, as though it were self-evident.

“What harm did the Jews do to deserve punishment?” Thomas didn’t let up.

“People don’t like Jews.”

“Are we different from other people?” Thomas was puzzled.

“Apparently.”

“I don’t see any difference between Jews and non-Jews,” Thomas insisted.

Adam got impatient, and he said, “The Jews have always suffered.”

“Why?”

“It’s a riddle,” said Adam, surprising Thomas.

“There have to be reasons.” Thomas spoke like his father, the teacher.

“We won’t solve that problem today.” Adam also spoke like his father. “Let’s take a look around the forest. I know it well. Sitting for too long gives you bad thoughts.”

“Shouldn’t I think?” Thomas jumped up.

“You don’t have to think all the time.”

“My father wouldn’t agree with that,” said Thomas.

While they were walking around, wonders appeared before their eyes. First they met a lilac bush in full bloom with its violet flowers. Adam walked up to the bush, picked a small branch, and put it to his nose. “A marvelous smell, like the bush we have in our garden.”

“I thought that lilacs only grew in gardens,” Thomas commented.

“Lilacs grow in well-lit places in the forest,” said Adam, glad to have remembered his mother’s words.

Thomas turned his face toward him. Again he was surprised by Adam’s capability.

Not far from the lilacs a wild rose bush grew.

“The forest isn’t monotonous,” said Thomas in a grown-up way.

They went in deeper and saw more wonders. Suddenly Thomas was frightened and said, “I think something happened to Mom. There’s a reason why she didn’t come on time. Can we go back to our tree now? Is it far?”

“It’s not far. We’ll be next to it in ten minutes,” Adam reassured him.

So it was. In a few minutes they were standing next to their tree, and Thomas was relieved.

But the night was not quiet. First they heard the footsteps of someone fleeing, then shots echoed. Adam and Thomas lay tensely in the nest and listened.

After midnight there was silence, but Adam and Thomas didn’t stick their heads out of the nest. They kept listening, and Adam said, “We’ll have to find ourselves a more secure hideout. Deeper in the forest the foliage is thicker.”

“I feel bad about our nest,” said Thomas.

“The nest we’ll build will be better.”

“When will we move out?”

“Before sunrise. But first let’s eat something. My sandwich is very good.”

“Mine, too. Too bad it’s our last sandwich. We weren’t provident.”

“Being provident wouldn’t have helped us. In a couple of days we’d have finished the last sandwich.”

“You’re right,” Thomas agreed.

They sat for a while, silent and listening intently. Finally Adam said, “Let’s go down,” and he quickly slid down the tree. Thomas threw down the two backpacks and the blankets, and Adam helped Thomas come down the tree.

After an hour of pushing through the thick underbrush, they stopped and stood next to a tree whose top was like the one where they had built their nest.

“Hooray, Adam. This is a splendid tree,” said Thomas as he took off his backpack.

“Once I went by this tree with Mom and Dad. Even then it made an impression on me. I didn’t imagine that it would be our new nest,” said Adam.

Without delay they started breaking off branches and twigs and collecting them. Adam climbed up to the treetop, and Thomas handed him the branches and twigs they had gathered. They found that the new treetop was thicker and wider than the other one. Adam, who was experienced in nest building by now, did it quickly this time.

Thomas asked, “More branches?”

“A few more.”

Then they took the backpacks up. Thomas climbed up and got scratched.

“Don’t worry, Thomas. I have a bandage and iodine in my backpack.”

The wound was bleeding, but Thomas didn’t complain.

“You did everything like an experienced forester,” Adam said as he bandaged Thomas’s arm. “Now you’ll have a scar, and it will show that you climbed tall trees.”