Adam and Thomas

Chapter 5

After that, darkness covered the forest.

“Let’s make a nest in the tree,” Adam suggested, and a spark lit in his eyes.

“You’re joking, Adam,” said Thomas, laughing.

“Our tree is solid. It’s made of lots of thick trunks that twist about and rise up. They make a dense, strong top. We can cover the top with branches and spread a blanket over them.”

“And if our mothers come, will we see them?” Thomas asked.

“From up above you see a lot better.”

Adam climbed the tree, and Thomas handed him branches and leaves. Adam cushioned the top and called down from above: “Soon we’ll have a great nest.”

Thomas handed him the backpacks, and Adam helped him climb the tree.

“Wonderful, Adam,” Thomas showed his enthusiasm.

“Sometimes it’s a good thing to learn from the birds.” Adam spoke like a craftsman whose skill had succeeded.

“You’re right. From up here you can see better. I have a blanket in my backpack, and I bet you have one, too. We’ll spread one blanket on the branches, and we’ll cover ourselves with the other,” Thomas tried to contribute his part to the initiative.

“A great idea,” said Adam.

They lay down to see whether the nest would bear their burden without caving in.

“Have you ever slept in a treetop before?” Thomas asked.

“No, but I’ve put up a tent with my parents, and we slept in it.”

“When our mothers come to get us, they’ll be amazed at your invention, Adam.”

“It’s already dark. They’ll certainly come in the morning. I’m tired,” said Adam.

As they were closing their eyes, they saw a man running through the forest. “It’s a good thing we’re up here,” said Thomas. “There’s no way of knowing what the runner would do to you.”

“Somebody who’s running is busy running and won’t pay attention to you,” Adam surprised him with his insight.

Then silence prevailed. Here and there an owl screeched, but except for that, not a sound was heard. Adam fell asleep. Thomas couldn’t sleep. He was awake and saw his father and mother before his eyes, and the people who came and went in their house.

Thomas’s father, a tall man, nearsighted like his son, was a high school teacher. His mother taught in elementary school. During the ghetto time, before he was taken to the labor brigade, he continued to teach his students at home, after they were suspended from school. “Study preserves us,” he would reply to everyone who expressed doubt about his efforts. “Particularly at this time, we have to protect our souls,” his father would repeat.

Thomas’s mother made sure he kept at his studies, and Thomas did work hard on arithmetic exercises, he read books, wrote compositions, learned poems by heart, and in the evening his mother would examine him and say, “Excellent. You’ve made good progress.”

All during the long days in the ghetto, Thomas plunged deep in his studies. He heard and knew what was going on around him, but the arithmetic exercises and the reading filled his soul. He didn’t understand that he had to prepare himself for a new life until his mother announced she was taking him to the forest the next day. What would it be like? He couldn’t imagine.

Adam hadn’t studied during the time in the ghetto. He helped his mother, who was working in the communal kitchen. He peeled potatoes and beets, sliced cabbage, and washed pots. At noon a long line stretched next to the kitchen, and Adam helped serve the portions of bread and soup.