Run, Boy, Run Read online

  But Zygmunt still had it in for him. He was just waiting for a chance to get even. One day he stopped to watch a peeing contest. Jurek stood in the line of waiting boys and didn't notice him. Before he knew it Zygmunt came over and grabbed his hands, baring his penis.

  "I knew it!" he crowed. "I knew it! You're a Yid. Now you'll come with me. The Germans will be happy to have you."

  Jurek squirmed from his grasp and ran off. Zygmunt chased him but soon gave up and went to get his father.

  Jurek ran back to the house. Pan Wrubel and his sons were outside, fixing a wagon. Jurek told them what had happened.

  "Zygmunt?" Viktor said. "That's what you might expect of someone from his family."

  "You lied to us," Pan Wrubel told Jurik. "You put us all in danger."

  Franek defended him. "He had no choice."

  "You be quiet!"

  "Franek's right," Viktor said.

  "What's the matter, wasn't he a good worker?" Franek asked. "Are you going to turn him over to the Germans just because of Zygmunt's family?"

  "No," his father said. "You're right, Franek. Call your mother."

  Jurek went to the barn to get his jacket and his knapsack. In it were the shoes the pretty woman had given him.

  Pani Wrubel was waiting for him when he returned. She had some food that she put into his knapsack.

  "May Jesus Christ watch over you Jurek," she said.

  "Of course he will," said Viktor. "He was a Jew, too."

  Pan Wrubel threw his hammer down on the wagon. "You sinner!" he shouted angrily. "How dare you talk like that? You'll go to hell!"

  "I'll meet you there, Papa," Viktor said.

  "Stop it," Pani Wrubel begged. "Say goodbye to the boy. He's just a poor orphan."

  Franek and Viktor walked him past the last house of the village. They were afraid Zygmunt and his father might waylay him along the road. Jurek turned around and watched them walk back. He looked sadly at the houses of the village. He had thought that he had at last found a farmer to stay with until the end of the war.

  9. A True Friend

  Jurek found his next family by accident. He had stepped out of the forest to look on the road for some stones for his slingshot. A farmer was sowing in his field, reaching into the sack on his shoulder and casting the golden seeds with a broad, regular movement as if doing the Lord's work. Fascinated, Jurek walked closer for a better look. It was lunchtime. A woman came from the village to bring the farmer food. Jurek stepped up to them and greeted them.

  "Are you hungry, boy?"

  He nodded.

  "Help yourself," the farmer said.

  He crossed himself and sat down with them to eat. After putting a few questions to him, the woman turned to her husband and said, "Jozef Wapielnik is looking for a cowherd. Shall I take the boy with me to the village?"

  The farmer nodded.

  Jurek went with the farmer's wife. The village nestled at the foot of a small hill. On the hilltop were the ruins of an impressively large building, an old fortress or perhaps a castle. The woman brought him to a big, well-maintained farmhouse and knocked on the door. A somber-looking farmer opened it.

  "You've been looking for a new cowherd," the woman said. "I've brought you one."

  Pan Wapielnik surveyed him. "All right," he said. "I'll try him out. What's your name?"

  "Jurek Staniak."

  Jurek was told to wait in the yard. Pan Wapielnik went and brought a wheelbarrow full of food for the pigs and sent Jurek to feed them. When he was done, he found the farmer sitting in front of his house.

  "You can sleep in the hayloft," he told Jurek. "Tomorrow you'll take the cows to pasture."

  "Yes, sir."

  Pan Wapielnik took him to the hayloft and pointed to a blanket in a corner. Someone had bedded down here before him. Shaking the blanket to air it, he heard something fall. He bent down and picked up a pocket knife. He opened it. It had only one blade, the tip of which was broken. He recognized it at once. It was Yosele's. Was he the cowherd here before him? What had happened to him? He didn't dare ask Pan Wapielnik. Perhaps eventually he would.

  Jozef Wapielnik was an irritable man. His small, unattractive wife was always busy. They had three grown daughters. Two worked on the farm and helped their mother with the milking. The youngest and prettiest lived in another village and sometimes visited on Sundays. There were also two younger children smaller than Jurek, a boy and a girl. Pan Wapielnik took both of them every morning on horseback to their school in a nearby town.

  The next day he rode his horse alongside Jurek to the pasture. His herd numbered more than fifteen cows and Jurek had to run around a lot to keep them all in the meadow. Once the farmer saw that he knew what to do, he left him alone with them. At least twice a day, however, he came by to make sure that his cows were all right.

  One day a cow calved in the meadow. Jurek knew exactly what to do. When Pan Wapielnik arrived, he received a nod of approval—the highest praise the farmer ever gave. Pan Wapielnik put the calf on his horse and rode home with the bleating mother behind him.

  Jurek didn't play with the village boys. If he wasn't given extra chores after coming home with the cows, he stayed on the farm and played with his dog, a big, black-and-white spotted mongrel with a black ring around one eye, which had turned up one day. Jurek took to feeding it and the dog came to sleep with him at night in the hayloft. One morning, while he was letting the cows out of their milking stalls, one of them stepped on the dog's front foot.

  The foot was broken. Pan Wapielnik went to get an ax with which to put the dog out of its misery, but Jurek carried the dog to the hayloft. He straightened the broken leg and made a splint from two pieces of wood tied with strips of cotton. The dog couldn't walk. Jurek went on feeding it and sleeping with it at night. Sometimes he brought it milk from the barn. He called it Azor.

  For many days Azor hardly moved. Then he began to hobble with his bad leg in the air and tried to work the splint off. Jurek scolded him and tied it back in place. A few weeks went by. When the foot had mended enough for Azor to use it, Jurek took off the splint and massaged it. The dog walked on all four legs again, although with a limp.

  Azor became Jurek's best friend and went with him everywhere. One day the farmer, who had forgotten about the incident, saw the two of them together and asked with surprise, "Where is that dog from?"

  "It's the dog you wanted to kill, Pan Jozef," Jurek said.

  "It limps a bit, eh? That's no reason why it can't make a good guard dog."

  That night, he tied Azor with a chain outside the house. In the morning, he let Jurek free him. Only on Sundays did Azor remain chained all day. That was when Pan Wapielnik had visitors. He was proud of his big new guard dog and wanted to show him off.

  Jurek's new employers never invited him into their house. After coming home with the cows, he would be brought his supper by one of the girls. Usually this was a bowl of noodles and vegetables or potatoes mashed with lard and onions. On Sundays he was given an omelet with sausage. He was hungry all the time. Although he knew Pan Wapielnik wouldn't like it if he took his mind off the cows, one day he couldn't resist hunting a grouse with his slingshot. As soon as the farmer departed after one of his visits, Jurek made a fire and put the grouse in the coals. As luck would have it, Pan Wapielnik returned unexpectedly soon afterward. Finding Jurek by the fire, he stuck him hard with his whip.

  "I've got a big herd," he said. "If I ever catch you sitting by a fire again, I'll sack you at once."

  "Yes, Pan Jozef."

  After the farmer was gone, Jurek ate the cooked grouse. But he didn't dare hunt anymore.

  ***

  It was high spring. One fine Sunday morning Jurek lay in the meadow playing one of his favorite games. Taking off his shirt, he hung it on a board in the sun and waited for the lice to leave it. Then, with the help of a stem, he forced them to walk in a straight line. Any louse breaking ranks was squashed at once.

  After a while, he laid his head o
n the ground and fell asleep. Azor was chained up and wasn't with him.

  He awoke to a stinging pain. Jozef Wapielnik was standing beside his horse and whipping him. Jurek leaped to his feet. The cows were grazing in a field of carrots. Before Jurek could run toward them the farmer seized him and bound his hands with the whip. He was unsteady on his feet and stank of alcohol. Twice he tried mounting his horse and fell off. The third time he succeeded, dragging Jurek after him. Jurek's knapsack and jacket, all the property he owned in the world, remained in the meadow.

  "Pan Jozef, the cows!" Jurek shouted. But the farmer paid him no attention. He simply mumbled to himself and uttered a string of curses. When they reached the farmyard, he dismounted, or rather, fell off his horse, freed Jurek's hands, grabbed him by the hair, and began to beat him with the handle of the whip. Jurek screamed. Azor fought to come to the rescue. On his third leap he broke the chain and pounced on the farmer. Pan Wapielnik let go of Jurek and tumbled to the ground, trying to protect himself with the whip.

  "Azor, come!" Jurek called in a fright, afraid the dog would murder the man. He began to run. Azor left Pan Wapielnik and ran after him.

  He returned to the meadow, gathered his things, and headed for the forest. As soon as he entered the dark cover of the trees, he felt like someone returning to a hometown whose streets and lanes he knew by heart. And now he had a friend with him.

  The first night, Jurek reverted to his old custom of sleeping in a tree. But Azor soon began to whimper and he climbed down and lay beside him on a mattress of pine needles. His thoughts turned to Yosele and his knife. Had Yosele also run away because Pan Wapielnik beat him? He would never know.

  He fell asleep and dreamed that something was rolling on him and choking him. He wanted to ask his brother to help him but couldn't remember his name. Although it was on the tip of his tongue he couldn't think of it. And when he shouted, his brother didn't recognize his voice and walked away. He knew he would come to him if called by name, but the name continued to escape him. He woke up breathing heavily.

  Azor was lying on his chest, licking him. Jurek sat up and stroked the dog's head. It was wet. Jurek licked his lips. He was thirsty.

  "Did you find water?" he asked.

  Azor wagged his tail. Jurek listened to the forest. There was a sound of running water. He went to look for the brook that was making it. It made him think of his first day in the forest with the Jewish boys. How long ago had that been? He tried to calculate. Since then a whole winter and spring had gone by and it was almost summer again.

  He went to pick berries for his breakfast. Azor didn't know what to make of them. He ate some and spit out others. Jurek burst out laughing and hugged him. "You'd rather have meat, wouldn't you?" he said.

  Azor cocked his head as though deliberating. Jurek took out his slingshot and strode off purposefully through the trees. A bird took off from a branch, sensing danger. But practice had made perfect and he brought the wood pigeon down. It fell to the ground with a broken wing and made for the bushes. Azor pounced on it.

  "Fetch, Azor!" he ordered as he had done in their games.

  The dog gave him a sly look.

  He raised his voice. "Azor!"

  The dog obeyed and brought him the bird. There was not enough meat on it for the two of them.

  "Still," he said to Azor, giving him the innards and bones, "it's better than nothing."

  They were still eating when he spied another wood pigeon, perhaps the first one's mate. He downed it too. Now they could eat to their hearts' content.

  The next day Azor disappeared in the undergrowth, came back, and was gone again. Jurek listened and heard an odd sound, as if of branches being shaken. Following Azor, he discovered a rabbit dangling by its foot from a slipknot. Opening the knot, he removed it from the rabbit's foot. The animal screeched horridly. Jurek was afraid the sound might bring the forester or the trapper, if not worse. The rabbit had to be killed quickly. He did it with his eyes shut and moved away through the forest to be safe. This time, he waited until nighttime to make a fire. He cut the rabbit into pieces and roasted them on a spit. Azor ate too. It was a royal feast and there was enough left over for the next day.

  Jurek became a good hunter. He bagged a small rabbit, a squirrel, and once, after several misses, a large duck swimming in a reed-encircled pond.

  "Azor, fetch!" he called.

  The dog jumped into the water at once and fetched the duck. There was enough meat for three days.

  Another time, Jurek killed and cooked a blue jay. But its meat was inedible. It was tough and had a bad smell. He gave it to Azor, who didn't think much of it either.

  They weren't alone in the forest. A growl from Azor would warn him when there were people or wild boar around. Grabbing the dog and pinching his jaws shut with both hands, Jurek would whisper: "Shhhhh!"

  And Azor would hush up. After each such near encounter—with what or whom only Azor knew—they hid for a while in the bushes. At night Jurek lay with his arms around the dog, making sure he didn't bark. Sometimes, hearing low voices or footsteps, he guessed that partisans were near. He debated letting them know he was there. But Yosele had said they wanted no part of Jewish boys.

  And then disaster struck. It was a clear day. Toward noon he heard voices and people running. Before he could grab Azor and slip away, a large dog bounded toward them, foaming at the mouth. Two men with rifles ran after it. They shouted when they saw him, "Mad dog! Run, boy!"

  Jurek ran as fast as he could. Azor ran after him, bounding over a large fallen tree. Jurek felt a sharp pain in his heel. He ignored it and kept running. The mad dog was gaining on them. He halted, grabbed a large branch, and swung around to face the beast. Azor bared his fangs and threw himself at the attacker. Jurek tried striking the rabid dog on the head, not realizing what danger he was in. The two men came running up.

  "Get out of the way, boy!"

  Jurek jumped aside. Two shots rang out.

  "No!" Jurek cried. "No!"

  They fired two more shots. The mad dog was dead. Azor lay dying.

  Jurek slumped to the ground in pain, hugging his dog. He didn't cry. One of the men stroked his head. He pushed the hand angrily away. The man said, "Son, your dog saved your life."

  "But what did you kill him for?"

  "Look. We had to kill them both. When a man or dog is bitten by an animal with rabies, they get it too and die a horrible death. Do you understand? Look how your dog has bites all over."

  Jurek nodded.

  "Where are you from?"

  "The village." He pointed vaguely.

  "Over there?" They looked in the direction he had pointed in. "There's no village there. You're confused. You must mean there." They pointed somewhere else.

  Jurek nodded.

  The two men talked things over and decided to burn the dead dogs. One went to gather pine needles, and the other, dry branches. Jurek tried helping them, but he couldn't step on his injured foot.

  "What happened to you?" one of the men asked.

  Jurek sat down and looked at his heel. "I must have landed on something when I jumped," he said.

  He overcame his pain and lent a hand. The men looked tense and nervous.

  "Would you stay here and watch the fire?" one asked him. "Here, here's ten zloty. We have to go. If any animal eats the carcass before it's burned, the rabies will spread. Do you understand?"

  Jurek understood. He didn't take the money. "All right," he said.

  He sat and watched the fire. The smoke burned his eyes. Tears ran from them.

  Someone was standing there. Jurek looked up. The man lifted an arm to hit him. When he saw what was burning, though, he checked himself. It was a forester, a different one from the one Jurek knew.

  "What are you doing?" he asked.

  Jurek told him.

  "Two men with rifles, you say?"

  "Yes."

  "Not Germans? Not police?"

  "No."

  The forester nodded tho
ughtfully. He asked, "Where are you from?"

  This time Jurek pointed in the right direction.

  "Go home," the forester said. "I don't want you burning down this forest. I'll take care of the fire myself."

  That night Jurek went back to sleeping in the trees. He tied himself to a branch with his rope belt and dreamed of Azor. In his dream Azor could climb trees and was lying next to him. Then Azor turned into his brother. They were sleeping together in one bed. But his brother slept badly and kept kicking him in the foot.

  Jurek awoke. Dawn was breaking. The forest floor beneath him was still dark. His foot felt worse. By evening he could hardly walk. Two more days went by and his heel swelled and turned yellow with pus. The skin was too callused to pierce with a pine needle and he was afraid to cut it with Yosele's knife. He needed help. Breaking off a branch to use as a walking stick, he hobbled in the direction the two armed men had pointed in. When he came to the village, he remembered the pretty woman's advice and headed for the spire of the church. Next to it was a house, and he knocked on the door. An old priest opened it. Jurek greeted him in the name of Jesus. The priest reached out to pat his head and he kissed the priest's hand as he had seen people do in village streets.

  "You're not from here," the priest said.

  "No, Father."

  "Where are you from?"

  "I have no parents. I just go from place to place."

  "What can I do for you, my son?"

  Jurek showed the priest his foot. The priest looked at the swollen heel and told Jurek to come in. He went to a closet, took a razor blade, and cut the thick skin on Jurek's heel. Then he squeezed out the pus, wiped it away with a clean rag, and pulled out a long splinter. Finally, he smeared salve on the heel and bandaged it.

  "Martha," he called. "Bring some bread and milk. We have a young guest."

  A middle-aged woman entered the room and put on the table a large glass of milk and a plate with two thick slices of bread and lard. Jurek reached for it, remembered in time to cross himself, and began to eat. Although he tried eating slowly and politely, it wasn't easy.