Sarah and Solomon

by Roberta Kagan

  “You know I can’t,” was always Solomon’s response.

  “Then I want to stay with you.”

  She was a pain in the neck most of the time. He had to admit that his life would have been much easier without her. But he’d promised their mother that he would take care of her, and he intended to keep that promise. Besides, the honest truth was, he loved that precious little monster. She was a handful, but she was also a joy. When he was at work, sweating from the intensity of the labor during the day, sometimes he would catch a glimpse of her watching him, and he would see the admiration in her eyes. Or when he went out at night and broke through the cold, hard ground to bury the potatoes, he would glance back at the barn thinking she was asleep, only to find her watching him and smiling. It was at times like those when he swore he could feel his heart swell. And if someone would have asked him what he wanted more than anything else in the world, he would have told them “I want to protect my sister. I want my sister to survive.”

  Solomon put thoughts of his mother out of his mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t miss her, he did, but his tragic life had made him a realist. The horrors he’d witnessed had jaded him. From what he’d seen of the Nazis, he felt certain his mother was dead. If he were to allow himself the luxury of tears he felt he might weep and never be able to stop. However, Solomon was a self-proclaimed survivor, and he refused to indulge in self-pity. He would force himself to put every tender moment from his past out of his mind. Instead, he got up every morning and forced himself to forge on, to provide for Sarah and himself. Once this was all over, and he did believe the day would come when the Nazis' reign would end, he and his sister would search for his mother. Then they would be forced to accept whatever they found. But until that time arrived, he knew he must not think about his mother.

  Solomon was friendly and always helpful to the other boys. He could be counted on to carry more than his share of the work. He did it to make up for the fact that Sarah was not capable of being much help. And he never asked for any favors from anyone. The others liked him well enough, but he remembered Majec’s warning, and he did not make friends. He never sat with the others while they told jokes during their meals. Except for Sarah, he kept to himself.

  One afternoon Majec arrived. Taking Solomon aside, Majec stuffed a small folded piece of yellowed paper into his pocket.

  “Read this after I go, yes?” Majec said.

  “Yes,” Solomon replied.

  “And about Sarah?”

  “I decided that no matter what happens, she and I must stay together.”

  “I understand, and I’ll tell Irena. She’ll be disappointed. She always wanted a daughter.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Ehh, I don’t blame you. Anyway, what I have to say now is about the letter I gave you, so listen good. Tonight, as soon as it gets dark, leave here and go south. You will find a group of partisans. The truth is they will probably find you. Tell them your name is Artur Zajec and you have brought them important information. Then give them the note I gave you, and get back here to the farm as quickly as you can.”

  Solomon nodded, his fingers squeezing the paper in the pocket of his jacket.

  “Can I count on you?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you find the partisans before they find you, be careful not to get shot when you approach the camp. There are always scouts watching.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Solomon answered.

  “By the way, are you still burying potatoes at night?”

  “We stopped last week. There is little left of the last crop. I suppose the farmer is expecting the Nazis to come and get their share of that. But at least he will have what we have already buried.”

  “He shares what he can with us, with the Resistance. Borkowski’s a good man.”

  “He still hates Jews.”

  “Yes, and so do many others. But he hates the Nazis more.”

  “I suppose that should be a comfort to me, yes?” Solomon said cynically.

  “I don’t hate the Jews,” Majec said. “Neither does Wiktor. But I am sorry to tell you that I have no control of how others feel. All I can do is help you and your sister as much as possible.”

  “Thank you for all of your help. I don’t blame you or Wiktor for the hatred of my people. How could I? It’s not your fault. Besides, I feel fortunate to have your friendship . . . and Wiktor’s too. Anyway, don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of this tonight.”

  Chapter 15

  Jula Borkowski, the farmer’s only child, who had yearned for a younger sister, took a special liking to Sarah. And in turn, Sarah relished every bit of attention that Jula paid her. Each of them had individual jobs: Sarah was expected to collect the eggs and milk the cow, and Jula did the cooking and helped her mother keep house. But when they had free time, Jula would go to the barn and find Sarah. They took walks together, and they played with Sarah’s doll. Perhaps it was because Jula could feel that Sarah worshiped her in the way a child worships an older sibling that made Jula feel comfortable enough with Sarah to tell her things she might not have told anyone else.

  “You have to promise not to tell anyone what I am going to tell you,” Jula warned.

  “I promise,” Sarah said, her voice very serious.

  “You have to keep your promise . . .” Jula loved the way Sarah hung on her every word.

  "I promise. You can tell me anything. I will never tell anyone your secrets.” Sarah’s face lit up. She was excited to be a confidante to this older, pretty, and popular girl.

  “All right, then. I’ll tell you,” Jula said, her bright azure eyes sparkling. “You know Kade, don’t you? He’s the handsome boy who lives with you and the others in the barn.”

  “Yes, I know who he is.”

  “He’s my boyfriend. No one knows it, but he kissed me—on the lips!”

  “Oh!” Sarah exclaimed.

  “He did. We have been flirting with each other for months. But last week, I was coming out of the chicken coop and no one was around. Kade saw me and I saw him. Then he walked over to me and asked me how my day was going.”

  “So what did you say?”

  “I told him it was fine, silly.” Jula winked and Sarah giggled.

  “Then he just kissed you?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “So what happened? Come on, tell me . . .”

  Jula laughed at how filled with anticipation Sarah was. “Well, he asked me to sit down and talk. He gave me this hair ribbon as a gift.” Jula showed Sarah the royal-blue ribbon she had used to tie the braid in her hair.

  “How did he get it?”

  “I have no idea. I didn’t ask. I was so surprised that he was giving me a gift that I could hardly speak. I’ve never received a gift from a boy before.”

  “Then what happened? Hurry up and tell me; I can hardly stand it,” Sarah said.

  “Well,” Jula said, then she giggled as she watched Sarah’s face. “Well . . .”

  “Come on, already . . . please . . .”

  “All right. So he told me that I was pretty and that he thought I was the prettiest girl he’d ever met.”

  “No, he didn’t!” Sarah said.

  “Yes, he did. Why, don’t you think I’m pretty?”

  “Of course I do. I think you are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. But it’s very bold of him to say.”

  “Bold but charming.” Jula laughed, then Sarah chuckled too.

  “Then guess what he did.”

  “He kissed you.”

  “Not yet, silly, not yet.”

  “So go on and tell me . . .”

  “He tied the ribbon around my hair. My whole body was shivering. Then he touched my cheek and I closed my eyes. And then . . . and then . . . he kissed me.”

  “Oh my!” Sarah covered her mouth with her hand. “Are you going to get married?”

  “Someday, I hope so. I don’t think we can right now. I mean, my father would throw him off the farm if he knew tha
t he dared to kiss me. My goodness, but my father would be very angry. He’s made me swear that I would never have anything to do with any of those boys.”

  “But you really like Kade, don’t you?”

  “I think I am falling in love with him. Of course, my mother would say that I am only fourteen and I don’t know what love is. But what does she know. I know what I feel and it’s definitely love.”

  “What does it feel like?”

  “Every time I think of him, my whole body gets warm all over. And when I see him, I get all nervous and giddy inside. When he looks at me, all I can think of is that I hope someday he’ll kiss me again.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  “I believe he will too. But I can hardly wait.”

  “I hope someday I’ll know what it feels like to be in love. Sometimes I am afraid that I’ll die first.”

  “How can you say such a terrible thing. You’re so young. How old are you?”

  “I’m going to be six in the spring.”

  “You have your whole life ahead of you.”

  “I hear the boys talking about the war and the future and how if we are caught burying potatoes we will all be killed by the Nazis, and all that talk makes me wonder if I will live to grow up.”

  “Is that all they say?”

  “No, they say lots of things that make me afraid. Terrible things. Scary things. I can’t repeat them.”

  Chapter 16

  Later that evening when Solomon told Sarah that he was going to have to leave her for a few hours to do some work for Majec that night, she grabbed on to the sleeve of his shirt and said, “Take me with you.”

  “I can’t. It’s too dangerous. You’ll be too slow. We’ve talked about this a hundred times. You will be safer here waiting for me.”

  “I don’t want to be here alone without you. The other night I had a dream about that bad man who tried to touch me in my private place. You must remember that? Do you? Do you remember? I want to go with you. Can I please?”

  He couldn’t look into her eyes. How could he forget ? He blamed himself everyday for how she’d suffered that night. And the very thought of her agony left him cold and terrified. Perhaps he’d made the wrong decision not sending her to live with Majec. There was no guarantee that she would be safe there, but at least Majec and his family would do their best for her.

  “Sarah . . .”

  She looked up at him and he wanted to cry. It was times like these that he wished with all his heart he could just be a child again without responsibilities. But that was not an option. Regardless of his age, Solomon was a man, and he was in charge of his sister’s safety. The weight of this was heavy on his heart.

  “Would you like to stay with Majec and his family for a while? You liked his wife, didn’t you?”

  “I would love to! She would take very good care of us. She was so nice to me . . .”

  “Not us, Sarah. Just you. I must work. I have responsibilities. Someone must earn our keep, whether it is through delivering messages for the underground or working on the farm. Someone must pay the price for our needs to be fulfilled.”

  “That means that you wouldn’t come with me to live with Irena and Majec. Would you stay here?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid I would have to. But at least when I went out at night like . . . tonight . . . you would be safe in your bed with Majec’s wife looking after you.”

  “No,” she said firmly. “No, no no. I don’t want to go, anyway, because then I would have to leave my friend Jula. Why is everyone and everything I love taken away from me?” Then she started to cry. If only he could break down and cry like that when things didn’t go his way. Instead, he took her into his arms.

  “The boys here don’t bother you, do they? They don’t do anything bad to you, do they?”

  “No, they don’t bother me. Or do anything bad,” Sarah admitted.

  “Besides, when I go out tonight they’ll already be asleep. You’ll be all right. Just go to sleep, and by the time you wake up, I’ll be back here.”

  “What if a man like that bad man who was under the stairs comes and tries to do bad things to me?”

  “The other boys wouldn’t let it happen.”

  “Are you going to tell them to watch out for me?”

  “I can’t. I can’t even tell them I’m going.”

  “But Solomon . . . what if I wake up and the bad man is here? What will I do then?”

  He was irritated. He wanted to yell at her, to tell her that all of this was as hard for him as it was for her. He wanted to tell her that he was afraid of going out into the woods alone in the middle of the night looking for a group of partisans who might not recognize him as a friend. But he couldn’t tell her. She was too young, and he couldn’t blame her for being afraid. Solomon looked into Sarah’s eyes and reminded himself that she’d been through so much.

  “Listen to me, will you?” He gently turned her chin upward so his eyes met hers. “I promise you’ll be all right. Will you trust me?” How can I make this promise? There are no guarantees. Not anymore, not since the Nazis came to Poland. But he had to promise, or she would follow him into the darkness, and that would be a disaster. The only way to ensure he and Sarah would be able to stay on the farm was to deliver the note. And although the barn wasn’t perfect, so far they had been safe and were blessed to have a warm place to sleep and food in their bellies. All he could do was pray that she would be all right while he was gone.

  She nodded. “I trust you.” Sarah squeezed her brother’s hand with her small one. Her eyes were glassy with tears, and it made his heart ache with pity for her. Sometimes he wanted to holler at her, to tell her not to depend on him so much. He wanted to let her know that he wasn’t perfect, and he could no more protect her than he could protect himself. Solomon wanted to say “You expect too much from me. I am not an adult. I am just a child too, and I am scared. I am scared all the time." But he didn’t say it. In fact, he forced a reassuring smile and ruffled her hair the same way their mother used to do.

  “It’ll be all right,” he said, mustering up a voice of confidence he didn’t feel.

  She nodded. “I’ll wait up for you.”

  “Sleep. It will be better for you if you sleep.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Chapter 17

  She was fast asleep when the darkness fell like a veil of spilled black ink over the little farm. Solomon kissed Sarah’s head the way his mother had always kissed their heads when she put them to bed in a time that seemed like a thousand years ago. Then without turning around, he snuck quietly out of the barn and walked for less than a mile until he was in the deep woods. Night sounds from the throats of nocturnal creatures filled the forest. In the shadows of night, the arms of the gnarled trees seemed to reach up and out to him in terrifying gestures. A shiver ran down Solomon’s spine, but he forced himself to go on. An owl let out a loud hoot and a wolf howled, startling Solomon who tripped on the roots of a tree that had grown out of the ground resembling large, thick vein-like fingers. Falling facedown into the dirt, he began to weep. For several minutes he lay there crying. Then he got up, shook himself off, wiped the dirt from his tear-stained face, and forced himself to keep walking forward.

  The partisans found Solomon before he saw them. Two men came out of the trees and grabbed both of his arms.

  “Who are you?” one of them said.

  “My name is Artur Zajec. I have a note for you from a friend from the Polish underground.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In my pocket. Let go of my arm, and I’ll get it for you.”

  “I’ll get it myself,” the man said. Then finding the gun in Solomon’s pocket, he took it and stuffed it into his own pocket. “A gun?”

  “The note is right there too,” Solomon said, trembling.

  The man rifled through Solomon’s pocket and brought out the note. He held it up to the moon. “I can hardly see in this light,” he said to his friend.

  “Give
it to me. I can see it,” the other man offered.

  “Nazis coming to collect harvest from neighboring farms tomorrow. Get out of the area before dawn. Majec.”

  “You know Majec?” one of the partisans asked.

  “Of course,” Solomon said. “The gun was for protection from the Nazis, not from you. I am one of you.”

  The man let out a laugh. “So you are, young fellow. Come on, follow me.”

  Solomon followed the man for several minutes until they came to a small clearing in the middle of a cluster of trees. Two other men, who had been sitting on the ground, got up to meet them.

  “What is this?” one of the men asked.

  “A boy. Majec sent him with a note. The note said that a small group of Nazis are coming to collect the harvest at the local farms.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Stay in the forest. Stay away from the farm for the next day or so,” the first man said to Solomon.

  “I have to go back. My sister is there.”

  “Your sister?”

  “My little sister.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Sixteen,” Solomon lied.

  “You’re sixteen like I am the king of England,” the man said, then all the others laughed. “How old are you really?”

  “Nine. My sister is five.”

  “Good God, you're just children. You should be in school. Where is your mother?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Solomon said, afraid to tell him the truth.

  “It does to me.”

  “I don’t know. Probably dead.” Solomon choked the words out.

  “You’re a Jew, aren’t you?”

  Solomon didn’t answer, but he stared at the man with wide eyes. He was about to run when the man grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.