Sarah and Solomon

by Roberta Kagan

  They had come out to the fields just before dawn.

  “So tell me how you met Tamar?” Ben asked as the sun began to rise in a scarlet sky.

  “She was here at the kibbutz when I got here. She lived on the kibbutz with her parents. At first we fought all the time. She was such a stubborn little thing. She wouldn’t back down. And then one day she and I were having an argument; I can’t even remember what it was about, but all of a sudden I looked at her. I mean, I really looked at her, and I was stunned by how beautiful she was. And then it was as if she felt the shift in me, in us, because she looked into my eyes. And, well, something happened. I kissed her. And then, I guess, maybe I grew up? Before I knew it, we were talking about marriage.”

  The sky was turning from crimson to a deep orange as the sun climbed in the east.

  “Tamar’s a nice girl. I’m glad you found each other.”

  “She’s a wonderful girl. Don’t get me wrong; she’s still as stubborn as a goat. But so am I.”

  Ben laughed. “Yesterday Ewa showed me how you press the olives to make olive oil. Fascinating. That olive oil you put on the vegetables sure is delicious. It’s much different than the stuff we buy in the stores in New York.”

  “You like Ewa, don’t you?” Solomon said. His voice was serious.

  “I do. She’s a good and kind soul.”

  “If it weren’t for her, I don’t know if Sarah and I would have made it through.”

  “And the priest you told me about too?” Ben said. The previous day Solomon had told him a little about Father Dupaul.

  “Oh yes, Father Dupaul. God rest his blessed soul. He was a godsend to Sarah and I. He passed away last year. This may sound strange, but Sarah and I sat Shiva for him.”

  “After what we all went through with those damn Nazis, nothing sounds strange.”

  Ben felt the sun on his back. It was hot, and he was sweating, but he felt productive. He took a long drink of water, then he and Solomon continued working. As he put the ripe olives into a bucket, he thought about Moishe. His son was a different person here in Israel. He was helping Sarah with the children in the kindergarten during the day. The two of them seemed to have a connection that he had never seen Moishe have with anyone else. Not even Eli.

  “Israel is paradise,” Ben blurted out.

  “Paradise? I don’t know about that. It’s beautiful, and we Jews are blessed to have this land. But it’s not without fault. There are years when our crops don’t grow as well and we go hungry. And this country is always on the brink of war.”

  “If there is a war in your lifetime, would you be required to go?”

  “I would go not because I am required but because I love Israel, and I know what it would mean to our people if we lost our homeland. So I would put my life on the line to ensure the safety of this land.”

  Chapter 83

  That night after dinner, Ben and Ewa went off on their own again as they had been doing each night since the first time Ewa took Ben to the waterfall. They walked until the sun set, then they sat down beside the waterfall and gazed out at the shadows of the hills as the moon began to rise.

  “Remember I told you I had something I had to tell you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have come to like you very much, Ewa, and so I must tell you the truth about me. I am not a perfect man.”

  She let out a small sharp laugh. “Who is perfect?”

  “No, I am worse than most.”

  “Go on, tell me what you have to say,” she said, taking his hand in hers.

  And he told her everything. He told her about Rumkowski’s murder and how he and a group of his friends from the sonderkommando had lured the man into the crematorium and then beaten him to death. He explained why he killed Rumkowski.

  “He was a Jew, just like the rest of us. But when we were in the Lodz ghetto, he tore ten thousand Jewish children away from their mothers and sent them to their deaths.”

  Ewa gasped, but she did not say a word.

  Then Ben took a deep breath and continued. His body shook as he told Ewa what happed with Ilsa. How she’d posed as a Jewish survivor. How he’d started dating her. And then how he’d found out that not only had she been a Nazi guard at Ravensbrück, but it was she who killed his wife in front of their son.

  “I was like a crazy man. Moishe was visiting me; he had been living in Germany at the time. Gretchen had brought him to meet me. This was our first meeting. I should have tried to control myself. But I couldn’t. I lost my mind. I killed that woman, that dirty Nazi, with my bare hands. I don’t regret killing her. I only wish Moishe had not seen it happen.”

  “Oh, Ben,” Ewa said.

  “They say only a certain type of person can kill like that with their hands. I never thought I was that kind of a man. But the Nazis proved me wrong. They taught me that if a man is driven hard enough he can kill. And he can do it with his own hands. I’m sorry I had to tell you this story. I don’t know how this makes you feel about me. Can you forgive me?"

  “Forgive you? It’s not for me to forgive you. Forgiveness comes from God. And I have a feeling God will understand why you did what you did.”

  “Does this change what you think of me?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Ewa, it’s been a very long time since I held a woman in my arms. And . . .”

  She looked up into his eyes. “It’s been a long time for me too. I haven’t kissed a man since Gunther died.”

  “May I kiss you?” he asked shyly.

  She nodded.

  The kiss was soft and warm. A breeze blew a spray of water from the waterfall toward them. Ben took Ewa’s face in his hands and kissed her again.

  “Let’s go for a swim,” he said.

  She was trembling as she stood up. “All right.”

  They took their clothes off, everything except their undergarments and went into the cool water. They swam under the waterfall.

  “You’re a good swimmer,” she said.

  “Yes, I used to go swimming when I was a boy.”

  “I can’t tell you how many times I have walked by this beautiful waterfall in the years I have been here. But this is the first time I’ve been in the water,” Ewa said.

  “It's so clean, not like New York. Even the air here is clean,” Ben said, smiling.

  She nodded and smiled, and he kissed her again. This time he held her close to him. She closed her eyes. Her body trembled in his arms. He lifted her up and carried her to the shore where he lay her gently upon his clothes. Then he made soft, sweet love to her. Slowly, carefully, tenderly, taking his time and savoring every second and every inch of her body.

  Once it was over they lay in each other’s arms.

  “Thank you for making me feel alive again, Ewa.”

  “Thank you, Ben.”

  “I want to say so many things, but tomorrow night is the wedding, and then Moishe and I will be on our way back to New York.”

  She shrugged and turned away from him. Ben had enough experience with women to know she was crying.

  He gently turned her back to face him. Ewa’s tearstained face touched his heart. “You are so beautiful,” he said.

  “Will you ever come back to Israel? Will we ever see each other again? I’ve said so many goodbyes in my life . . .”

  “I will return to Israel. Now that I have been here, I know Israel will call to me.”

  “You’ll come only for Israel?” she asked.

  “Not only for Israel. Mostly for you.”

  Chapter 84

  Solomon moaned in frustration. He had never worn a tie before, and now as he was getting ready for his wedding he couldn’t seem to tie it properly. Ben had shown him how to do it several times, but now that he was trying to tie it alone the darn thing looked lopsided. He was almost ready to abandon the tie altogether when there was a knock on his door.

  “Who is it?” he asked, glad for the distraction.

  “It’s me, Sarah.”

 
Solomon opened the door.

  “Ben sent me.” She smiled. “He said you’d be having trouble tying your tie. I think I can help.”

  “You know how to do it?”

  “Yep, I do.”

  “How do you know how, and I don’t?”

  “Ben showed me.”

  “He showed me too,” Solomon said. “I still can’t get it right. Will you just look at it?” He threw his hands up in the air.

  “Come here. Let me do it for you,” Sarah said. She took the two ends and wrapped them until the tie was perfect.

  “What would I ever do without you?” he said.

  She shrugged. “I’m glad we never had to find out. God protected us and kept us together.”

  “Which reminds me”—he cleared his throat—“I have something for you. I was going to give it to you at the wedding, but I think I’d rather give it to you privately.”

  She looked at him puzzled. “This is your wedding day, not mine. I should be giving you and Tamar gifts.”

  He opened the drawer to his desk and pulled out a doll. “I think I owe you this.”

  “Solomon!” Her face turned pale as the memories of their past flooded back to her. She gasped as the breath caught in her throat.

  “Do you remember when we escaped from the farm, and you lost your doll for the second time? I promised you I would get you another one.”

  She nodded, holding the doll to her chest remembering how she felt as a five-year-old frightened little girl. Tears ran down her face.

  “And by the way, you were a real pain in the neck at five years old, but you know me.” He tried to sound casual, but his voice trembled with emotion. “I like to make good on my promises.”

  She nodded.

  He continued, “Now, I know that I am kind of late with this because you’re too old for dolls. But in a few years, God willing, everyone here on the kibbutz will be making a wedding for you. And then, with God’s blessing, there will be children. A little girl, perhaps. You can give this doll to her. And when you do, you can tell her the story of our escape, of how we survived, and at the same time you can tell her the story of our people.”

  “Oh, Sol, I’ll always treasure this doll because of what it means to me . . . to us.” She was weeping. “I love you. I am so glad that you are my brother.”

  “I love you too, Sarah. But I can’t get all weepy now because I have to get ready for my wedding. So, go on, get out of here and get dressed.” He winked, but she could see how much he cared in his shining eyes.

  She was at a loss for words, so she just nodded and hugged him.

  “And . . . by the way, thanks for showing up at just the right time and for tying this damn tie.”

  She giggled. “You can thank Ben for that,” she said as she walked out the door carrying the doll in her arms. For a single moment as Solomon watched her walk away, he saw the little girl she had once been when she stood outside the ghetto wall, and he couldn’t hold back the tears.

  Chapter 85

  Four men held posts covered by a sheet of fabric to create a chuppah, a canopy under which the chatan, the bridegroom, and the kallah, the bride, would speak the vows that had been spoken for centuries. The vows of holy matrimony.

  Solomon looked handsome as he waited in front of the canopy for his bride to walk down the aisle. He’d borrowed his suit from one of his friends on the kibbutz. How blessed he felt as he let his gaze scan the entire room. All the friends he’d made in Israel were here to wish him and his bride a happy and healthy life together. They might not all be blood, but they were all his family. Then his eyes fell upon Sarah who was sitting beside Ben and Ewa. On her lap, she held the doll.

  The young man who played the guitar at the campfires each night was standing on the sidelines playing softly. He was accompanied by an older woman on the violin. Ben couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw that Moishe was also standing with the other two musicians, and he was playing a violin as well. Moishe, who had always been so withdrawn, so painfully shy, was making that violin sing with such a sweet and haunting melody that it touched Ben’s soul. Over the week that Moishe had been in Israel, he seemed to change. His skin was now tanned slightly, and he looked healthier than Ben had ever seen him look. Ben, who was sitting beside Ewa and holding her hand, watched as Moishe and Sarah exchanged glances and smiles across the room.

  Then the music stopped, and Tamar appeared at the end of the aisle holding tightly to her father’s arm. She wore a dress that she’d made with the help of all the women who lived on the kibbutz who had once been seamstresses. This is life on a kibbutz, Ben thought as Tamar left her father and walked up to where Solomon waited. Together the two of them walked under the canopy, then Solomon remained still as Tamar walked around him seven times.

  The vows were said; the rings were exchanged. The rabbi placed a glass that was wrapped in a towel beneath Solomon’s feet. The room grew quiet as Solomon lifted his foot to stomp on the glass. Once he did, everyone yelled “mazel tov,” and Solomon kissed Tamar.

  As the couple walked away from the ceremony toward the main room where the reception was set up, an old man missing one eye, who had spent the war as a prisoner in Treblinka, raised a bottle of wine high in the air. “L’chaim,” he cried out. “To life. We Jews have survived in spite of Hitler. In spite of every pogrom that has tried to annihilate our people . . . we prevail. And this”—he pointed to the newlyweds—“this . . . marriage, family, children, this is what life is all about. L’chaim!”

  “L’chaim!” the rest of group called out. “L’chaim!”

  Tears were running down Ben’s cheeks. L’chaim, he thought. L’chaim.

  Milk and meat were never served at the same meal on the kibbutz. Most of the meals were nonmeat meals which could include fish, cheeses, and milk. But tonight was a special night. Tonight was a wedding dinner, so chicken, vegetables, hummus, and pita were served.

  Before they began to eat, Solomon stood up. He clanged his spoon against his wineglass to get everyone’s attention. Once the crowd was silent, he spoke: “Tamar and I want to thank every one of you for all of your help in making our wedding possible. We couldn’t have done it without you. You! Our dear friends, our family!”

  Everyone clapped.

  Chapter 86

  After dinner, Ben was surprised to find that Moishe got up and played the music for the hora dance. Ewa took Ben’s hand, and they danced in a line with all the others. They danced until they couldn’t dance anymore, and then they sat down, breathless, together. Sarah was sitting across the room beside Moishe who was still playing music.

  Tamar and Solomon were dancing.

  “You know, I was thinking,” Ben said. “I am a lonely man. I have only my son in New York. Yes, I have a job, and it’s a good job. But I go home at night to an empty, dark apartment. I was thinking perhaps . . . I might move to Israel. Moishe could come and visit me every summer when school lets out. What do you think?” he asked, looking into Ewa’s eyes.

  She hesitated for a moment, then she touched his cheek. “I think, like my bubbe used to say, ‘Only a stone should be alone.’ Come, Ben. Come and move here to Israel. Live on the kibbutz and be with me.”

  “That’s funny, my bubbe used to say that exact same thing about the stone. I was beginning to believe that my heart had turned to stone. That was until I met you,” he said, then he kissed her. “Maybe our wedding will be next? That is if you will have me,” he said.

  “Yes, if you are proposing, my answer is yes.” She swallowed hard. “Oh, Ben, you’ve made me so happy,” she said, and a tear slipped down her cheek. He gently kissed it away.

  Authors Note

  First and foremost, I want to thank you for reading my novel and for your continued interest in my work. From time to time, I receive emails from my readers that contest the accuracy of my events. When you pick up a novel, you are entering the author’s world where we sometimes take artistic license and ask you to suspend your disbelief. I always tr
y to keep as true to history as possible; however, sometimes there are discrepancies within my novels. This happens sometimes to keep the drama of the story. Thank you for indulging me.

  I always enjoy hearing from my readers. Your feelings about my work are very important to me. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review on Amazon. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend.

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  Roberta

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