Solomon and Sarah
Only A Stone Should Be Alone
By Roberta Kagan
Copyright © 2020 by Roberta Kagan
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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DISCLAIMER
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Authors Note
More Books By The Author
Chapter 1
Solomon could hardly catch his breath as he looked into his mother’s eyes. “Take care of your sister,” she said somberly. Solomon rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. And even though he was in the familiar small room that he shared with his sister, Sarah; his mother; and his mother’s friend, Benjamin Rabinowitz, it was the middle of the night, and the stars that came through the window gave the small space an eerie glow. For a moment he felt that the entire situation was not real. His heart was pounding. Perhaps, he thought, he might be trapped in a terrible nightmare.
“Mother?” he said, sitting up in bed.
“Yes, Solomon.”
“Am I dreaming?”
“No, son. I wish to God that you were. But this is not a dream. So you must wake up quickly, and get your wits about you. Now, I know I am asking a lot of you, and what I am asking is a big responsibility for a boy your age, but you have always been my little man. From the first day I held you in my arms, I knew you were special. You have an old soul, Solomon, and I love you more than you’ll ever know. But, my son, my dear beloved child, I have no choice but to send you and your sister away.”
So it was true. He’d heard her correctly. It was not a dream at all. His mother was sending him and Sarah away from the ghetto, and she wanted them to leave immediately.
Zelda, Solomon’s mother, continued as she stroked his hair. “My son, my dear sweet boy. My Solomon. As much as I would like to keep the two of you here for as long as I can, and every moment I can share with you and your sister is precious to me, I know that we must act quickly. There is no time for sentiment. As much as it hurts me, I know in my heart that this is the only chance the two of you will have to survive the Nazis.”
She wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.
Then she touched his shoulder. “My babies, my two precious babies.”
“We’re not babies anymore, Mama. I’m nine, and Sarah is five,” Solomon said, trying to sound strong.
“Of course you’re not. But to me, you will always be my babies.” Then she forced herself to smile. “Now, I know how smart you are, Solomon, and I am depending on your quick wit. You’ll need to be smart and alert at all times.” She went on. He could see, by looking at the pain in her eyes, just how distressed she was, and it frightened him.
“I know what a strong boy you are, and I’m counting on you to use every bit of street savvy you have to protect Sarah,” she said, touching his cheek softly. “Your sister is only five, and she has been protected and is not nearly as wise as you. She is going to need you, Solomon.”
Solomon felt the bile rise in his throat. He wished he were still asleep, still an innocent child trying to keep his mother from finding out that he’d been sneaking out of the ghetto or palling around with a wild bunch of older boys.
“Tomorrow, Mordechai Rumkowski . . .” she said, and he turned away from her, not wanting to face the truth that she was about to share with him.
He knew who Rumkowski was. He was the head Judenrat of the Lodz ghetto.
Zelda gently took her hand and put it on his chin. Then she turned his head back to face her, and her eyes fixed on his. “Rumkowski made a speech today. He said that tomorrow all of the children, who are under ten and living here in the Lodz ghetto, would be sent away on a transport to fulfill a quota for the Nazis. He didn’t tell us where they would be sent. But everyone who has been living within these prison walls of the ghetto, knows that those who are sent away on transports, never come back.”
Solomon had heard that anyone who went on a transport was murdered. “I’ve heard the rumors. I�
��ve heard that the people who are sent away on transports are murdered.”
Zelda could not speak. She let out a gasp as she pulled Solomon close to her and buried her face in his hair.
“Mama, you’re crying.”
She nodded. Zelda found it hard to believe that even the Nazis could be so cruel as to murder her children. However, she dared not trust them or Rumkowski. These two precious lives must be forced to leave her and get as far from the ghetto as they could. Then maybe, if God would only watch over them, they might have a chance to live. Her mind whirled with terror. She searched for any other solution, but could not find any. Her two children would be all alone. Wandering the streets of Poland with no money and no food, they would be at the mercy of strangers. But if she went with them, they would most assuredly be caught.
The children were small, and Solomon knew how to slip in and out of the ghetto wall, but she was too big to get through. Dear God, what am I to do? Am I making the right choice? How will they live? What will become of my babies? These two precious lives, lives that you, God, have entrusted to me. She closed her eyes and remembered how she’d held them in her arms at night when they were sick. How she’d rocked them to sleep when they were scared and taught them as much as they could comprehend about reading. She’d shared books with them and given them her own food when the family had run short. And now, her only choice was to entrust them back to God. If they stayed here with her, they would be ripped from her arms in the morning. Watch over them, dear God. Please keep them in the palm of your mighty hand.
Although Solomon was very young, only nine, he was tough. His friends were less-than-savory characters, who were much older than he. They’d taught him how to maneuver his way in out of the ghetto walls. Solomon knew where every opening was and how to get through. He prided himself on how easily he’d learned all of it. He was tall and muscular, looking much older than his nine years. And he'd already had several years of experience slipping in and out of the ghetto at night to make deals with the Polish underground to buy and trade on the black market. His mother had begged him to stop. She was afraid he would be caught, but he was incorrigible, running around as if he were indestructible.
Many nights he would make his quiet escape from the bed he shared with his sister after she fell asleep and return before sunrise with necessities, like extra food for his family and a little more to sell. It was dangerous, of course, but at that time, at least he had been able to return to the apartment where his family lived. After tonight, he knew he could never come home. When his mother awakened him, she warned him that no matter what happened, he and his sister must never return to the ghetto. He’d steeled himself, trying hard to be a man. But the truth was he wanted to run into his mother’s arms and cry like a baby.
“When this is all over, I will find you and your sister. But for now, you must stay far away from here,” his mother warned.
“How will you find us?”
“I don’t know. But I will. Now, you must trust me. And go, hurry, get as far away as you can before the sun comes up.” Zelda wiped her tear-stained face on her nightgown.
Benjamin Rabinowitz awakened. He’d crawled quietly out of his bed and was now standing by Zelda’s side with his arm around her shoulders.
Solomon glanced at Benjamin, who looked worn out and very sad.
“Mama, I don’t want to go,” Sarah said. “I want to stay here with you.”
“I know. But you must go with your brother. And you must mind him. Do you understand?”
“I don’t want to go,” Sarah moaned again.
Solomon took both her hands in his. “Listen to me. I’ll take care of you. And before you know it, Mama will come and find us.”
“I don’t believe you, Solomon.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“No.”
“I won’t this time. I promise,” he said. “Now come. We must go.”
Zelda hugged her beloved children for several moments. Her mind went wild with worry, sadness, and terror. How could she be sending these two little children out into the world alone. But . . . she had no other choice, and she knew it. If she didn’t send them away, Rumkowski would take them.
“Go. Please go, and hurry.” Zelda had wrapped all the food she had left from her rations in a clean towel, which she gave to Solomon. Then she placed his father’s gold ring into his hand. “This was your father’s. It’s real gold. Sell it to buy food or whatever else you need. I know you’ll be careful,” she said as her body was trembling.
Sarah saw her mother give Solomon the ring. “That’s Papa’s ring,” she said angrily. “He’ll want it when he comes back.”
“It’s all right. Papa told me to give it to Solomon,” Zelda said. Her husband, Asher, who had been a volatile and abusive man, had been sent away on a transport. She didn’t know if he would return. But if he did, she would worry about the ring then. Right now, she wanted Solomon to take it and use the money to provide for him and Sarah.
Solomon took the food. He plunged the ring deep into his pants pocket. Then he grabbed Sarah’s hand. “Let’s go. The guards in the tower are less likely to notice us while it’s still dark.”
“Mama? Are you sure I have to go?” Sarah said, shaking and holding her doll tightly.
Zelda nodded, then she said, “Sarala, I love you. Solomon, I love you too, my little man.”
He nodded, trying hard to hold back his tears, then he forced himself to smile at his mother, hoping he was reassuring her as he gently dragged his sister out into the darkness. He felt his stomach lurch with fear. But he couldn’t stop. He knew he must do as his mother asked. So, still holding tight to Sarah’s hand, he pulled her, and within seconds they disappeared onto the route that he’d come to know so well. Before long, he knew they would come to the crack in the ghetto wall where he would push Sarah through and then follow behind her.
The streets were dark. Sarah gripped Solomon’s hand tightly. He moved fast, but all his senses were on high alert. He’d done this a million times before but never with a five-year-old child hanging on to him. From the intensity of Sarah’s grip, he could feel her terror. She needed comforting. He knew that; he could feel it. But it was not safe to stop and coddle her right now. He had to stay as vigilant as possible and get them out as quickly as he could, so even though he could hear her softly sobbing, he just squeezed her hand and pulled her along. Her short little legs made her slower. He was annoyed, but at the same time he felt sorry for her as she struggled to keep up with him clutching her doll in her arm.
“Who goes there?” It was the voice of one of the Germans. Solomon thought he could tell the Judenrat henchmen from the Nazi guards. This was a Nazi. Damn, he thought, breathing heavily.
When she heard the guttural German voice of the Nazi, Sarah let out a gasp. Solomon yanked her into an alley that was on the side of a building and put his hand over her mouth. She struggled to break free.
“Shh,” he whispered into her ear. “If you promise not to say another word, I’ll let you go.”
She nodded, but when he let her go, she said, “I couldn’t breathe with your hand over my mouth, Solomon! I’m telling Mama you hurt me.”
“Shhh . . . I said shut up.” He was harsher than he’d meant to be. He felt bad, but there was no time to explain. He had to get them out of there and fast. If they were captured, it would be bad, very bad. Sarah’s body was shaking. She was crying silently now. He knew she’d been crying since they left, and he knew she was scared.
Solomon’s hearing perked like the hearing of a dog as the guard's bootheels hit the pavement. The Nazi was getting closer. Solomon knew he must act immediately. There was no time to think, only to act. He grabbed Sarah’s hand roughly and pulled her along. He was pulling her so fast that she tripped and fell and skinned her knee. She let out a cry, but Solomon did not stop. He only dragged her harder and faster until they arrived at the wall. Then without stopping for a second, he pushed Sarah through the crack and f
ollowed her. Once they were on the other side, he lifted her up and ran with her until they reached an alleyway behind a general store. Then out of breath, he put her down.
“Stay quiet. We aren’t safe yet,” he whispered.
“I lost my dolly,” Sarah said angrily. “She fell out of my hand when you pushed me. You pushed me so hard, Solomon. Mama would be angry if she knew. You hurt me. And you made me fall down and cut my knee too.”
“Sarah, be quiet. You have to be very quiet. If they find us, they’ll kill us. So don’t make another sound.” His tone of voice was harsh. She glared at him, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she put her thumb in her mouth and whimpered. Solomon glanced at her as she sat there looking small and frightened with her tear-stained face illuminated by the moonlight. He was sure she’d stopped sucking her thumb a year ago. But she’d reverted to it to comfort herself. Well, he didn’t care if she did it now. He didn’t care what she did so long as she kept quiet.
Solomon let out a long, low whistle like the call of a night bird.
It was several minutes, and then Solomon let out the whistle again. Just as Solomon expected, a man slipped out of the darkness. “Sol,” he said. It was Wiktor, one of the men he dealt with from the Polish underground, who acquired things for him through the black market.
“It’s me. I’m here,” Solomon responded.
“What are you looking to buy?” Wiktor asked.
“Food. A gun, bullets.”
“How much you got?”
“I got a gold ring. It’s solid gold.”
“Can’t be worth much. Besides, how do I know it’s real gold?”
“You’re just gonna have to believe me. That’s all. I’ve been working with you for over a year. I haven’t tricked you yet. Why would I start now, Wiktor? This ring is worth plenty, and you know it.”
“Sol, for a kid so young, you sure got a good head on your shoulders. All right. I’ll get you a gun and bullets. I’ll do what I can as far as the food. It’s so damn scarce. But I’ll try.”
“And listen,” Solomon said as he looked back at Sarah, who was huddled in the corner where he’d left her. “Can you get me a doll? Doesn’t have to be a new doll or an expensive one. Just a doll.”