A Flicker of Light (17 page)

With a heavy heart and a strong determination
,
he headed out to the country, to the outskirts of Berlin, where he would be less likely to be
detected. The thick forest
would hide him. He
planned to steal food from
barns and from farmers’ fields. Aaron knew that in order to stay safe,
it would be essential to keep moving. Staying in one place too long increased the probability of being caught. Nimble and strong, he managed to elude the authorities by staying off of the main roads. From his hiding places, he watched as the Nazis rode by with open wagons, filled with prisoners from the camps to act as free labor to the German farmers. Dressed in striped uniforms with arm bands, the prisoners looked out with empty stares. He saw that many wore the yellow bands with the Star of David, but others wore pink or black bands. Aaron wondered what those meant.

Always staying off the main roads, silent and observant, Aaron witnessed the cruelty of the SS first hand. He watched
,
sickened
,
as a group of officers with
their perfectly black
and eagle pins stood over a group of emaciated, naked people, and made them dig a deep hole, shouting, “
M
ach
schnell
!
” Then Aaron observed in horror as the officers shot the people from behind and pushed their bodies into the makeshift grave. He slammed his fist into his hand in an effort to contain his fury. The desire to run out and fight grew with each passing minute. But he knew that they outnumbered him, and that he would certainly be killed. Although he did not fear death, he wanted to take as many of them with him as possible.

Over a six-month period, Aaron’s body dropped any semblance of former softness as it morphed into lean, hard muscle. He learned to hunt small animals using his knife, saving his bullets for emergencies. Sometimes he ate the meat raw when it was too dangerous to start a fire. During the light of day, he remained hidden deep in the brush, but at night he stretched his legs as he made his way towards Munich. A part of him longed to go into the city with its art museums and restaurants, but he did not. In the forest
,
he felt as if he had become a part of the earth, and
he had
thoroughly adapted to his environment.

             
The winter proved trying. Each bone-chilling day tested his capacity for endurance. For almost a week he put up with frigid temperatures without warm outer garments, finding shelter in hen houses and other
such
structures. Then one Sunday morning when a family had gone off to church, he slipped into a barn and found a heavy coat hanging from a nail in the wall. The coat belonged to a much stockier man, and he found that it hung from his slim frame, but he put it on and stuffed the pockets with potatoes from a bushel baske
t. Then
he left the area, now better equipped for the weather. Most nights he found hiding places in cellars, which he had become adept at locating. Many times, he found that the farmers built them
under the floorboards, often in the barn or chicken coop. He could tell by the hollow sound beneath his feet t
hat he had located the entrances
. Within these dank, dark places he often found matches, food, clothing and anything that the German farmers felt important enough to take the risk of hiding from the Nazis. Once, an old woman, the wife of a farmer, had discovered him and rooted out his hiding place. As she descended the stairs into her cellar, she saw Aaron hovering in a corner. Stopping on a step, she stared incredulously. The woman wore a well-worn, thick wool coat over a stained cotton dress, and a scarf covered her hair. As she’d opened the trap door he’d had heard the footsteps but could find no escape or place to conceal
himself
. For a moment he had considered killing her, knowing that if she exposed him, he would be arrested and sent to a camp. But finding the idea of murder distasteful, he considered using the leverage he had. Because she knew he’d seen her hoarding food, and if she were caught the penalty would be grave, she did not scream, although he’d half expected her to. Looking into his eyes, she asked him pointedly. “Are you a Jew?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

She nodded back, understanding. Then she told him to go and never speak of what he had seen there. Relieved to
be allowed to leave without any further complications, he had climbed the stairs swiftly and immediately left the premises. When he hit the ground outside, running, he disappeared into the black of night.

A

s Aaron walked along the path of a deeply wooded area on the outskirts of an open meadow late one afternoon in the early spring, he heard voices. Quickly, he concealed himself as he saw three Gestapo officers capture two feeble old men at gunpoint. The men’s clothing was ragged and torn. Their faces bore cavernous wrinkles from the sun and weather. Aaron decided that they, like him, had also sought refuge in the woodlands. But their age had made them weak and slow. With their poor hearing and eyesight, they had been easy prey. Aaron watched as Hitler’s henchmen questioned the two, pacing around them. Then, suddenly and without warning, one of the SS officers drew his gun and shot one of the prisoners point-blank in the forehead. The old man’s entire face exploded into an unrecognizable bloody mass. Urine ran down the leg of the other hostage and soaked his pants as he stood next to the body of his murdered friend.

Turning to his fellow Nazi, the officer shook his head, “Look at this Fritz, the slob pissed himself.” Then he turned his attention back to the living prisoner who now had fallen to his knees, crying, his body shaking
uncontrollably. Studying him with cool detachment, the SS man raised his gun. For a moment the officer stood mesmerized, as if in a trance, as the old man begged for his life, his face covered with snot, tears and splattered bits of his friend’s blood and brains. After a short time the Nazi grew bored, pulling the trigger and ending the game. Without turning back to dispose of the bodies, the group of Gestapo officers slowly strolled back to their black Mercedes and drove away.

Disgusted with himself for not offering to help the men, Aaron sat down beneath a tree and looked at the bodies that lay just feet away in the meadow. Hot tears stung the back of his eyes and he vowed to himself that if he ever witnessed something like this again, he would not back down. He knew that there would be a good chance he would be shot, but better to be dead then live as a coward.

Several nights later, Aaron lay in an abandoned barn, resting on a pile of soft hay. His senses were much keener since he had begun to live on the run, keeping him alert and making him a light sleeper. He had just begun to doze as a sound that resembled the cry of an animal in pain startled him awake. He looked from
the window to witness two teenage
boys dressed in the brown uniforms of the Hitler Youth attacking a stout girl of twelve or thirteen.
Even from where he stood, Aaron could see that she bore the features of what Dr.
Blumgarten
called a mongoloid. Spittle ran from the side of her mouth as she cried out in terror and fell to the ground. The two boys continued toying with her, kicking her in the stomach and enjoying the power they felt over her. Pimple-faced and grinning, they smiled at each other as one of them ripped the bodice of her dress. She tried to get up, but the larger one threw her back to the ground and lifted her dress
,
exposing her ample thighs. Her legs flailed about as she tried to kick and squirm away. Then the other boy slapped her face so hard that a line of blood began to descend from her nose to her lips. “No! Please, no!” she had begun to cry. As one of the boys had pulled her dress up around her waist, she grabbed at it, desperately trying to pull it back down. With her other hand, she made a valiant effort to cover her exposed breasts.

Hitting her again, one of the boys lau
ghed as he looked at his friend,
“Are you sure you want to plant your Aryan seed into this mentally deficient animal?”

“Nobody needs to know. When we’re done with her, we just report her to the authorities, and they’ll take her away. They do away with these sor
ts of people, you know.
”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. A little fun, and then she
is
gone, and there is no one to tell the tale.”

Aaron paced the wooden floor of the barn like a caged panther. He could not sit quietly and allow this to happen. He knew if he exposed himself that he would be forced to kill them, which would bring the Gestapo out in search of the murderer of the two Aryan boys. Still, how could he remain quiet as these sadists tortured this poor innocent child? He had worked with the retarded in the past; he knew their gentle ways and how little comprehension they had of cruelty. With his fists balled up at his side, he continued to pace as the girl cried out. Unable to stand it any longer, he picked up a hefty axe that hung on the wall and ran outside. Upon seeing him, the boys lost their nerve. Aaron stood staring at them, his green eyes blazing.

“Who are you? What do you want? This is no business of yours! Get out of here!” one of the youths shouted with bravado he did not really feel.

Aaron did not answer. Far too enraged to stop now, he took the axe and cut the first boy down. A gaping hole in the boy’s chest the size of a cantaloupe spurted blood profusely. Horrified, the other boy ran. Once alone, Aaron extended his hand to the girl and helped her to her feet, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe her tearstained face.
Now Aaron knew for certain that he must leave the area quickly. The girl tilted her head to the side and smiled at him; her sweet, simple mind had already forgotten all that had happened. Aaron returned the smile, glad to see that she would not be permanently scarred
from the experience
. Then he turned and took his leave, quickly running back toward the shelter of the forest.

They would be looking for him now. The boy who escaped knew what he looked like. It didn’t matter - as a Jew he would already be considered a criminal. They could only kill him once, he thought as he smiled a bittersweet smile.

Four days had gone by. Aaron had no food. He was afraid to go into a barn or even a hen house because he knew they hunted for him. His head ached and his belly growled as he consumed leaves and grass, desperately hungry. In order to go on, he would have to
find some food, and
if he could not find any game
,
he must rob a farm. Hidden by the trees, he watched and waited until the darkness fell, and then he made his way out of the forest to search.

Aaron discovered a strawberry patch. The black dirt felt cool against his face as he crawled on the ground, eating the unripe fruit. Not daring to rise, he stayed on his belly
until he found an entrance into a barn through a window in the horse's stall. Before he stood, Aaron looked around to assure himself that no one lurked in the shadows. Confident that nobody had seen him, he slipped through the window. The horse was not used to having anyone enter her stall in this manner, and reacted by trying to kick him. Aaron dodged quickly, and managed to get out of the animal’s way, but he could feel the wind rush by as the hoof barely missed his face.

Months in the wilderness had honed his already strong
and athletic body. It took
very little effort for him to jump over the stall door. Then once he was out of the horse’s way, except for the movement as the horse’s feet brushed the hay beneath her, the barn was silent. Aaron searched for a trap door where the farmer may have stored food. Listening intently for the subtle hollow sound, he moved slowly across the floor. For fifteen minutes he combed the ground until he heard it.
A
slight hollow echo told him he’d found the cellar. In the corner under the hay
,
he felt around until he located the tiny latch. As he pulled the latch to one side,
a large sliver of wood lodge
s itself in
his finger. Almost crying out from the shock of the pain, Aaron pulled the long
,
thin splinter out of his hand. Blood streamed from the injury and he quickly tore a piece of his
shirt sleeve to tie it. A trail of blood would give him away, he thought, as he pulled the fabric tightly.

The trap door squeaked as it opened, and he went inside. By the light of the moon he could see the staircase. Then, closing the door behind him, he climbed carefully down in total darkness. When
r
eached the bottom, he lit a match. A great deal of food encircled him, and candles as well. He lit a candle and the room became illuminated. Whoever this barn belonged to had collected an ample stock of foodstuffs. Aaron looked around him to discover home-canned goods and large round spheres of yellow and white cheese covered in wax. He opened a jar of beets and began eating as he peeled the packaging off of a disk of cheese.

In the corner he saw smoked hog. Jews were forbidden to eat pork, but he had never been religious. Even if he had, he would have eaten it anyway. Aaron took his knife and cut off a portion of the meat, then ripped off a piece off with his teeth. He found the pork slightly tough, but tasty. He gobbled down the beets and then drank the water they’d been preserved in. By candlelight, Aaron could not see clearly, so as he walked over to retrieve another jar of beets from the shelf, he tripped over something large
placed purposely out of sight in the corner. As he leaned in his eyes adjusted. Now he understood. He’d found a radio.