Aharon Appelfeld - Adam and Thomas

Mina’s father died when she was five, and her mother worked as a housekeeper. They were poor, but her mother made sure that poverty didn’t shame them. She dressed Mina in nice clothes and bought her notebooks and textbooks.

“Are you certain it’s Mina?” Thomas asked repeatedly.

“I’m 100 percent sure.”

Still wondering how they could get solid food, they returned to the meadow and hid behind a tree near the edge to get as close as they could to Mina. Then they looked down and found half a loaf of bread and a piece of cheese wrapped in an old newspaper.

“I wasn’t wrong,” Adam called out.

They sat down by the brook. Adam cut a slice of bread and a piece of cheese for each of them with his jackknife, and they could barely believe their eyes.

They wanted to rejoice, but they were afraid. The long days of hunger had weakened them. The fresh bread they gobbled down stuck between their throats and their stomachs and hurt them.

“In the future we’ll eat more slowly,” said Thomas.

They drank water from the brook. The water washed down the bread, and the pain passed.

“Someone is watching over us,” said Adam. “Do you mean that God is watching over us?” Adam was silent. Tears filled his eyes.

The next evening, when Mina came to milk the cow, Adam approached the tree closest to her and called out in a whisper, “Thank you, Mina. We hadn’t eaten bread for many days.”

This time, too, Mina didn’t respond. After she finished milking, she took the stool and the pail and disappeared.

Adam and Thomas watched her in amazement. She had changed in a short time. She hadn’t grown taller, but her face and her body were fuller. When she milked, she looked like a peasant girl.

“Those changes didn’t come easily to her,” said Adam.

“How do you know?”

“Changing isn’t a simple matter. It takes determination. You have to alter all the movements your body is used to. You have to block your thoughts and speak in a language that isn’t yours. Lucky for us we’re in the forest and not with Diana, where we were supposed to hide, or who knows where. At Diana’s we would have been different creatures, swineherds, or who knows what. We’re suffering from hunger, but we’re still who we were. We have the forest and the brook, and we’re speaking the language we’re used to.” Adam spoke at length and with emotion.

“Mina has changed, but apparently not in her soul. She took the risk of bringing us bread. You have to admire her courage,” said Thomas.

“That’s true. If it sounded like I was looking down on her for changing, I apologize,” said Adam.

Every few days she left them a hunk of bread or a piece of corn pie. Once she left them a big red tomato.

“God sent Mina to us to rescue us from hunger,” said Adam.

“Does the messenger know she’s a messenger, or does she do it without knowing?” Thomas spoke in his father’s words.

“You’re great at phrasing things,” said Adam.

“I have to be careful. Sometimes Mom and Dad speak from my mouth,” said Thomas, laughing.

In the middle of the night, while they were wondering what they could do and where they could turn and how they could get another coat or a blanket to warm the nest, they heard a moan of pain. Adam and Thomas quickly climbed down from the tree and ran toward the sound of the groaning. Not far from the tree lay a man, breathing heavily.

Adam leaned over the man on the ground and said, “My name is Adam. Where does it hurt?”

“I’m weak. They’ve been running after me for two days. I’m exhausted.”

“We have a little fresh milk and some bread.”

“I’m thirsty. If you have water, that will save me.”

“Drink some milk, and later we’ll bring you water.”

The two boys lifted the man’s head, and he took a sip and then another. “Now we’ll go and fetch you some water.

“Thanks, boys, thanks, angels.”

They raced to the stream, rinsed out the thermos and filled it with water. The man drank and drank. He opened his eyes and said, “Angel children. Where are you from? Who sent you to save me?”

“My name is Adam, and my friend’s name is Thomas. We’ve been hiding in the forest since the beginning of the summer.”

“Did you hear my voice?”

“We heard it clearly. We have a nest in the top of a tall tree. You can hear things well from there. How are the people in the ghetto?”

“The ghetto has been liquidated.”

“Where were the people sent?”

“To Poland.”

“Have they gotten there?” Thomas asked cautiously.

“I assume so.”

While they were talking, they heard shots. The man raised his head and called out, “Run away, boys. I’ll look for a hiding place.” When Adam and Thomas didn’t move, he called out, “Quickly, quickly. You can’t stay near me.”

They returned to the tree in a crouch.The shooting continued, but they were glad they had managed to help the man who was running away. They were still worried about him. Who knew whether he had found a hiding place, whether he would hold out. They forgot about their own concerns. The image of the fugitive didn’t leave their sight.

With the last darkness the shooting subsided. They were in no hurry to come down. They listened. They didn’t leave the tree until first light. They trotted to the stream in a crouch, washed their faces, and drank.

They still had bread and some cheese.

“Adam, do you believe that God will reveal himself to us soon?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t expect so. I expect my mom and dad to return to me,” Adam surprised him.

“I thought that a believer would expect God to reveal himself.”

“Grandfather says, ‘God dwells everywhere.’ Whoever looks for God can find him anywhere — with people, with animals, and even in some inanimate things.”

“Does God also dwell in evil people?”

“Evil people have driven him out of themselves.”

“I didn’t know,” said Thomas. “Does your grandfather speak to you sometimes?”

“Grandfather isn’t talkative. He’s the silent type.”

While they were wondering what to do and where to go, they saw a dog in the distance, sniffing intently, going from tree to tree and sticking his nose among the bushes. Suddenly he raised his head and started running toward them.

It was Miro, Miro and none other.

Adam knelt, spread his arms, hugged Miro, and his voice choked. Miro looked neglected. His fur was matted and his face was thin. Adam overcame his muteness and asked, “How did you find me?” He pressed his face against Miro’s, kissed him, and pressed him to his chest.

Thomas was stunned. He had never seen such love for animals.

“This is my Miro, all mine.” Adam pressed him against his body again. “He sleeps in my room and in the winter he curls up on my blanket. How could I live without you? How’s Mom? How are my grandparents?” Miro let out a thin whine and shrank into Adam’s arms.

Thomas roused himself from his amazement and asked, “How did he find you?”

“With Miro, anything is possible,”Adam answered. “Did he ever find you before?”

“Mom once lost her wallet with money in it and was very upset. Miro saw she was upset and went out to look for the wallet, without anyone asking him to. Many hours passed, and he didn’t come back. We were afraid something had happened to him. Later that evening he came back with the wallet in his mouth. Miro is a marvelous creature. Can’t you see in him that he’s marvelous?” Adam spoke excitedly.