Sarah and Solomon

by Roberta Kagan

“All right.”

  She nodded again.

  “Now, come on. Give me your hand. We’re going to have to try to find Ewa and the rest of the group.”

  “I hope we can. I would love to find Ewa.”

  “I know. Come on.”

  They wandered that entire night and most of the following day.

  “I’m hungry,” Sarah complained. “And I’m so cold, Solomon.”

  “I can’t help it,” he said, “but tonight I’ll try to find us a place to sleep.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know,” he said in anguish.

  And when nightfall came, he tried to find an unlocked barn or cellar but he couldn’t. They continued walking until he found an outhouse. The smell was nauseating, but at least it was warmer than being outside. He led Sarah inside. She gagged. “Solomon, I can’t stay in here,” she said, gagging again.

  “We have no place else to stay.”

  “I’d rather freeze.”

  “Come on,” he said, leading her back outside. “Let’s keep looking for a warm place.”

  They walked for a long time for what seemed like hours. But still the sun had not yet peeked her golden head through the dark of night.

  “I’m so cold and so tired. I want Mama so badly . . . and my dolly. I wish I had my dolly,” Sarah said, finally plopping down on the cold ground and refusing to walk any farther.

  “We have to keep moving,” Solomon warned. But even as he watched his sister, he knew that this was nothing. The worst was yet to come. They had to find shelter before the winter fell upon them, or they would freeze to death.

  “I can’t walk anymore. My shoes hurt. They are too small and they pinch my toes. I want to go home. I don’t care what happens to me. All I know is I just want Mama.”

  “I know. I know. I do too. But you have to try and get up and walk.”

  “I want to sleep at least for a while, Solomon. Please.”

  She was so scared, and so young, that it hurt his heart to look at her. “All right, come here,” he said, holding her tightly in his arms to ward off as much of the chill as was possible. She shivered, but within minutes she fell into a deep sleep. Solomon remained awake. He tried reciting the prayers he’d learned in the temple before his family had been taken to the ghetto. But when he recited prayers from a book, he found that he felt no connection with God. So he began to talk to God, speaking to him as if he were a gentle and caring father, nothing like his real father, more like Ben his mother’s good friend.

  “God, I am so scared. It’s cold, and Sarah and I are very hungry. We can’t go back to the ghetto. To be honest I don’t even know how we would get back to Lodz if we wanted to. Why do all these adults want to kill us just because we’re Jews? Before we had to leave our parents I used to think of myself as a grown-up, but the real truth is Sarah and I are just children. Some of these Nazis must have children of their own. They can’t all be evil people. Not all of them. It’s just not possible, is it? Don’t some of them feel pity for us? Don’t some of them realize that we are no different than their own children? And I am sure that a lot of them are fathers.

  "Oh God, I don’t know what to do next. All I can do is sit here under the moon and watch my sister shiver in her sleep. I thought I was smart and that I could find my way no matter what happened. I thought I was good at stealing and dealing in the black market. I guess I thought it was fun to get away with things. And it did help my family. It got us food when there was none. But I know stealing is bad and it’s against your laws. And I sure am sorry now. If I am being punished for what I did, I beg you, God, please just punish me, but not poor little Sarah. She never broke your laws. And I know that I killed that man too, and that was sure a terrible thing to do. And, of course, that’s also against your laws.” He bowed his head in shame but continued to whisper, “But what else could I do? That man was hurting my sister. He was a bad man with evil ideas. I know it’s wrong to kill, but please, you must forgive me. You must. I need you now so badly. My sister is innocent even if I am not, and she really needs you. If you don’t help us, she’ll die. I know she will.”

  An owl let out a loud hoot, and Solomon jumped, but Sarah didn’t stir. He put his hand under her nose to make sure she was still breathing and let out a sigh of relief when he realized she was. “I probably will die too. I doubt I’ll ever live to grow up and have a family of my own. And like I said before, I know I am not a good boy. I suppose I deserve whatever happens to me as punishment for all the bad things I did. But I have to say it again—not Sarah though. She’s always been a real good girl. Sure she used to fight with me and turn me in to Mama when I went out at night to work the black market. Even so, I can remember her doing such sweet things, like putting her biscuit on my plate when she knew I was hungry or helping me to wash a cut on my leg when I got hurt on the barbed wire. She did it and promised never to tell Mama. She kept her promise, God. My sister is a real good girl, like I said. She deserves more than this. She’s lost everything, everything. I’m begging you to save her life, God, even if you won’t help me . . .”

  After he finished praying, Solomon drifted off to sleep and didn’t open his eyes again until the sun was rising, and the forest was filling with light.

  Chapter 26

  That day, Solomon offered a farmer a day of labor in exchange for food and a place to sleep. He never told the farmer about Sarah who he left hidden in the forest while he mended a broken fence. He’d been afraid to leave Sarah alone but he knew if he brought her with him, a small child, to the farm, it was more likely that the farmer would ask questions and want to know who he was and where he’d come from. So he was forced to leave her behind. It was hard work. His hands bled, and at one point he felt like running away, running away from everything, from the responsibility of caring for his sister, running away from the hard work and the harsh treatment of his people. If he were alone, he could travel faster; he could lie more easily and find a way to fit in as a gentile. In fact, had Sarah not been dependent on him, he would have taken the risk and run down to the murder scene at the Borkowski farm and stolen the papers and the identity of one of the older boys. He would also have taken any food or valuables he could find. Anything he might use or sell. But he didn’t return because he knew if he were caught, his sister would have to fend for herself. And he wouldn’t do that to her. Just like he would not run away and leave her now. He would wrap his bleeding hand in a rag and continue to work on the fence.

  Once he finished, the farmer’s wife gave him a bowl of boiled potatoes and told him he could sleep in the barn. He gobbled half the potatoes and wrapped the rest in a piece of fabric he tore off his shirt. Then Solomon waited until dusk when he ran up the hill into the trees to find Sarah. Relieved to see her, he told her to quickly come with him to the barn. She ran as fast as she could, slipping and falling, but she no longer cried when she fell. Instead, she just brushed off her dress and began to run again. Once inside the barn, Solomon gave her the potatoes. She ate them quickly.

  “We can stay in here, but you must be very quiet.”

  “I will,” she said, her voice very serious. “I was scared today and cold too when you left me.”

  “I know, but I had to leave you. We needed food.”

  “It’s all right. I’m glad you came back.”

  “Let’s get some sleep. I think it's best if we get out of this barn before dawn.”

  “But, Solomon, why can’t we just stay here forever? It’s warm and it’s safe. I don’t want to go back out.”

  “I know that. Of course I know that. But how do you expect me to make that happen? I have to sleep with one eye open because you’re not even supposed to be in here. My life would be a lot easier without you.” He was frustrated with her again. His voice was curt, and he was a lot meaner than he’d meant to be. Take a deep breath, he thought as he reminded himself that she was only a child. She had endured more than any small child should ever endure, and she understood
more than she should have had to at that age. But he knew she didn’t understand everything. Not even close. Sometimes she just wanted to be a willful little girl. She wanted to be warm and safe and cuddled, and he couldn’t blame her. But he also knew that what she wanted was impossible.

  She lay on the straw with her lower lip puckered as if she might burst into tears at any moment. He walked over to her and sat down beside her. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “But you wish you could get rid of me, don’t you?”

  “No, you’re my sister and my best friend. Fact is, you and me are all we’ve got, right?”

  “You’re all I’ve got.”

  “And you’re all I have too. So let’s not fight. I don’t want to ever be without you. Someday, I want to dance at your wedding.”

  She giggled. “Mama always used to say that. She would say, 'Someday, my little girl, I am going to dance at your wedding.' Do you remember?”

  “Of course, I do,” he said, turning away from her so she wouldn’t see the sadness in his face.

  “Do you think Mama is really dead?” she asked earnestly.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged, and a pang of terror shot through him whenever he thought about the possibility.

  “Do you think Papa is dead too?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “You never liked Papa anyway. He was too mean.”

  “He was mean.”

  “But you loved Mama, didn’t you?”

  “I’ll always love Mama.”

  “I love her too. I want to see her soon.” She hesitated then she asked, “What does it mean to be dead?”

  She doesn’t understand, he thought. “It’s getting late, and we have to leave here early in the morning. Let’s go to sleep. We can talk about this another time.” There were two horse blankets hanging from a hook on the wall. Solomon took them down and covered Sarah with one. Then he wrapped himself in the other. But when he looked over at her, she was shivering from the cold. He smiled at her. Then he removed the blanket from his own shoulders and covered her with it.

  “Don’t you need your blanket? It’s very cold in here.”

  “I’m not cold. You use it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” he said, then he kissed the top of her head the way their mother had always done when she put them to bed. “Sleep now, Sarah.”

  She put her thumb in her mouth. He noted that she still did that sometimes, and he wondered if she would ever stop. He watched her as she began to breathe heavily and her eyes closed.

  Before a quarter of an hour passed, Sarah and Solomon had fallen into a deep sleep. They lay curled up together shivering like two kittens trying to stay warm. Solomon tried to force himself to stay awake so that he could keep watch, but his young eyes would not remain open, so he finally succumbed to sleep, and putting his trust in God to protect him and his sister, the two children lay huddled on a pile of hay in a barn, similar, I would guess, to the one where Jesus was born. But this one was far away from Bethlehem; this barn was located somewhere on the outskirts of a dark forest deep in the Polish countryside.

  Chapter 27

  It was already morning when Solomon was awakened by the opening of the barn door. His heart beat fast as he looked around frantic for somewhere to hide. There was nowhere. He was afraid to hide behind the horse in its stall. It could very well kick them. Sarah was still asleep. He nudged her shoulder. The farmer walked in.

  “You’re still here?”

  Solomon nodded.

  “What’s this?” the farmer asked as he glanced at Sarah.

  “My sister,” Solomon admitted, not knowing what else to do.

  “You’re in some kind of trouble, aren’t you?” the farmer asked, shaking his head knowingly.

  “No, no trouble. Just trying to earn extra money to bring back to my mother who is badly in need of money since my father died.”

  “You’re lying. You’re Jews. You two are Jews,” he said, shaking his head.

  Solomon felt for the gun in his pocket. He would shoot and kill this man if he had to. The very thought of killing another person made him feel sick and terrified. But he would do it before he would let the man turn him and Sarah in to the authorities.

  “We want to leave,” Solomon said with as much conviction as he could muster. “Just let us go, and there won’t be any trouble.”

  “Hmmm,” the farmer said, “you two don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to turn you in. I would like the reward money but not enough to send two innocent children to the Gestapo. I have a grandchild your sister’s age. I couldn’t do it with a good conscience. But I do want you to leave. I wish I could help you more, but I can’t. I can’t risk being caught with the two of you in here. They’d say I was hiding Jews, and I’m an old man. I don’t think I’d survive prison. Go on, take the blankets with you—and go.”

  “Thank you,” Solomon said. He felt a tear fall from his eye and immediately brushed it away. Then he took the blankets, and with his other hand, he grabbed Sarah’s arm and led her out the barn door.

  “Wait,” the farmer said.

  Has he changed his mind? Solomon wanted to run, but the farmer was too close.

  “Here.” The old man handed Solomon three potatoes from a bag he had on a shelf. “Good luck,” he said, and then he walked back into his barn as Solomon took the potatoes.

  “Thank you again,” he said, then he pulled Sarah away.

  “I wish we could stay here,” she said. “He’s nice like an old grandpa.”

  “We can’t. That’s for sure, and I think we should get out of here before he changes his mind. We’re worth money to him. He might decide to turn us in. Let’s go. Come on, and besides, what if someone else comes along and sees us? We can’t trust anyone.”

  They ran as fast as they could back into the safety of the forest.

  Later that day, Solomon was offering Sarah an insect to eat. He’d forced himself to eat them on occasion, but she still refused. Regardless of how hungry she was, she could not put the tiny wriggling thing into her mouth.

  “I hate this,” Sarah said as she sat with her back against a tree while Solomon made a futile attempt to catch a fish from a pond a few feet away. “I want to go home. I want to eat Mama’s chicken soup for lunch. I am tired of eating things that make me want to throw up, like raw potatoes and bugs.” She shivered. “Do you know what Mama would say if she knew we were eating worms and stuff like that? She would be furious.”

  “I think she’d want us to eat whatever we had to eat to survive. And right now, I’m doing my best just to keep us alive.” He frowned at her as he took a tree branch and made a fishing pole using a thick thread from the horse blanket and a hook he made from thick wire that he found in the barn the night before. He took the insect he had tried to give to Sarah and shoved the hook through it. “I’m going to try to catch a fish.”

  “Last time you got a fish, you made me it eat raw. It was so slimy.”

  “We can’t risk making a fire, Sarah. Fire could bring the Nazis right to us.”

  She pursed her lips. “You just go on and fish. If you catch one, I’m not going to eat it anyway.”

  “Please stop this. I know you’re tired and crabby, but just stop fighting me. I’m tired too.”

  “What about the doll you promised me? You said you’d get me another doll.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  He looked at her exasperated. He wanted to slap her across her face. She’s only five, he reminded himself. She doesn’t understand. “I’ll get you a doll when I can,” he said, then he felt a tug on the pole. He was careful not to break the thread as he pulled. It was a small fish. But it was better, he decided, than a big one. A big fish might have broken the threads. He pulled it out of the water and grabbed it. It squirmed, but he held it tightly until it stopped.

  “We have a fish,” he said.

  “I’m still not going to eat it.” She c
rossed her arms over her chest.

  “All right. You have to eat, so I’ll make a fire.”

  “You can?”

  “Yes, I can. I stole these matches from Borkowski’s farm. I didn’t want to make a fire, but I will.”

  “They were really nice to us, and you stole from them? Solomon, you know better.”

  “Sarah, please. Just let me do what I have to do to take care of us.”

  She turned away.

  “If I cook the fish, will you eat it?”

  She nodded.

  “Does that mean yes?"

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Then I’ll take the risk of making a fire.”

  It was late afternoon by the time they finished eating.

  “I’m tired,” Sarah said.

  “Let’s get some rest.” Solomon patted the ground next to him. Sarah came over slowly and lay down on her side using her hand as a pillow. He lay beside her and covered his sister with the blankets. Then they huddled close so they could weather the cold with their body heat. Solomon marveled at how quickly Sarah fell into a deep sleep. A smile came over his face as he listened to the gentle rhythm of her slow, even breathing.

  She sleeps so soundly because she doesn’t understand how bad things really are. I wish I didn’t understand. I can’t help but worry that the entire group of partisans was arrested. If they’d been killed we would have found their remains. So either they were taken away, or they are hiding somewhere else. And I have no idea where to look. I keep trying to figure it all out, but I am lost, and I’m tired. Still, I can’t give up. I have to keep fighting to stay alive, to keep Sarah alive. Every day I say to myself, fight for one more day, Sol. Just one more day, and something good will happen; someone will find us. Papa hated me for my stubbornness, but right now that's all Sarah and I have left to count on. Papa called me scrappy. He said I was a streetwise punk. Maybe he was right. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what’s saving our lives. I hope our luck holds out.

  He finally fell asleep just as the sun set.